


Refuge

by therevolutionwillbelive



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:41:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16928379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therevolutionwillbelive/pseuds/therevolutionwillbelive
Summary: The Statesman makes it Earth, against all odds, minus the King of Asgard. Idunn Hjördísdottir, an Asgardian blacksmith, is struggling to come to terms with the destruction of her homeland when she finds new mountains, in Wakanda, that remind her of home. Their leader, especially, makes her feel welcome.





	1. One

The ship was immense. Still, she’d found a corner to curl up in.

The only family she’d had was her brother and her uncle. Her brother, Kari, had been an Einherjar warrior on the front lines to stop Hela. He had not survived.

Her uncle, Heimdall, was the sole reason she was still alive. She had been helping him evacuate the citizens of instead of fighting Odin’s firstborn. Had Heimdall not grabbed her, she would have been right alongside Kari and died just the same, an Einherjar’s noble death defending their home. But Heimdall was not with her now. He was with the new king, Thor, and that horrible, traitorous brother of his, Loki.

Idunn was alone.

Anyone else she’d known had fallen with Asgard when Surtur had buried his sword in her home.

The pain of it tore through her heart. Curling into a ball, tears streamed down the dark skin of her face. No one was coming to check on her, the handful of remaining Asgardians too lost in their own grief.

That was fine.  Idunn felt as though if she opened her mouth, the screaming and the horrors would never stop.

Instead, she pulled the folds of her cape closer for some semblance of warmth, her sword digging into her side, and cried herself into a state of exhausted unconsciousness.

She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when she woke to the ship shaking beneath her, screams filling the air, and jumped to her feet, hand on the hilt of the sword strapped to her waist. “What’s going on?” She demanded, grabbing a man near her.

“I don’t know,” The man told her, shaking. He looked to be a civilian, no armor or weapons. Idunn pushed her way through the crowd until she reached the throne. It was empty, and her uncle stood beside it.

“Heimdall?” Her voice shook as she addressed him.

He stared out the immense window before them, no expression in his unfathomable golden eyes. “This ship just appeared and our king… King Thor has left us to deal with it.”

She looked at the spot he did and gasped at the enormous ship in front of the one they stood on, rumored to have been stolen from the Grandmaster on Sakaar.

“Are we under attack?” Her hand tightened on your sword, felling him thrum beneath your hand in response.

“Not yet.” Heimdall replied gravely, turning away. The ship jolted under your feet and you saw the distance between the two ships widen.

“What are we doing?” You exclaimed, turning back to him. “The King is still out there!”

“And before he left, he gave express orders to the captain to take his people to safety without him.” Heimdall huffed, clearly in disagreement with the sentiment.

As the pair watched, lightning filled the darkness of space, and Idunn flinched back from the sudden brightness, squinting her eyes shut. When she opened them again, the other ship was nothing but a speck in the distance.

“So where are we going? And who is leading us if our King is lost in space?” She demanded, trembling.

Heimdall sighed the sigh of someone burdened yet again with the responsibility of leadership. “I am.” He cut his golden eyes to her, taking in the tear tracks still on the dark skin of her face, her mussed, dreadlocked hair, the bloodshot puffiness of her eyes, a gold much more muted than his own, and his harsh expression softened. “How are you doing?”

The tone of his voice, concerned and warm, made tears spring back to her eyes, and Idunn looked up at the ceiling quickly, blinking them away and swallowing the thick lump in her throat. “Don’t worry about me.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Idunn, you’re family. Of course I’m worried about you.”

“I miss him.” She admitted quietly. “Kari, Vali, Gyda, Astrid… they’re all gone. My brother, my friends…” she trailed off, eyes on an asteroid belt outside the window as they zoomed by.

“I know.” Heimdall admitted. “The pain of losing your mother has never completely vanished from my heart. I don’t think it ever will. She was my big sister. But it does get easier with time.”

She looked up at him and was surprised to see tears rolling down his normally stoic face. She wrapped her arms around him and the pair of them allowed themselves just a moment to grieve for family, for friends, for _home_.

♤♤♤

Her uncle helped her find a small, quiet room where she wouldn’t be disturbed (“ _I don’t need you sleeping on the floor again.”_ ) and Idunn settled in, passing the time unnecessarily sharpening her sword. As an Einherjar, she had made weapons, and her own short sword was her finest piece of work. Nearly two feet long, it was dual edged and razor sharp, the grip wrapped in red strips of leather and intricate knot designs etched into the guard and working their way up the fuller. The tip could cut through steel like it was butter, the pommel was shaped like an arrowhead and just as sharp, allowing Idunn to use the butt of her sword just as well in a fight. It fit in the leather holster strapped to her leg like a glove. She'd named him _Halvor_ : defender. Her bow and quiver of arrows had been left and destroyed on Asgard.

She slept little, and when fitful slumber did find her, she was plagued with nightmares of Kari falling at Hela’s blade.

Her barracks (and really, that’s all they could be called) had no windows, so Idunn felt, rather than saw, the landing. The entire ship shuddered and hissed around her, and she stopped twirling Halvor in the air, imagining burying the sword in that evil hag’s gut.

“Idunn.” A voice from behind startled her, and she spun, Halvor pointed outward.

Heimdall had appeared in her open doorway, and just behind him, at his shoulder, stood the Valkyrie woman, the one who had helped save what was left of Asgard’s people. On her right, a Midgardian stood, the only one on the ship; a man small in stature… for the moment. She’d been warned not to make him angry. “We’ve arrived on Earth.” Heimdall announced, pushing the blade down carefully.

“Sorry.” She muttered, embarrassed, and sheathed her blade. “Where on Earth?” She asked, glancing at Valkyrie curiously.

“We are just outside a small country called Wakanda. Come with me, we need to speak to their leaders.” He replied, beckoning Idunn out and walking down the hall. She quickly fell into step with him and Valkyrie walked silently on her other side.

“Why me?” She questioned, intrigued. She had an idea, but the little bit of pride that lived on in her heart wanted to hear it.

“You’re a highly intelligent, diplomatic Einherjar warrior. From what I know of Wakanda, they’ll respect that about you. You know a fair amount of Midgardian culture. And I know you.” Heimdall answered.

“Why did we come here?” She was nearly breathless trying to keep up with her uncle, and it suddenly dawned upon Idunn that she had no idea how much time had passed since she had last eaten or done anything, really, besides grieve and try to sleep.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing, but I’ve been too afraid to ask…” the Midgardian man piped up from where he’d fallen a few steps behind them. Idunn wracked her brain for his name. Barry? Barney? Brunner? Valkyrie seemed to think rather highly of him, so she didn’t worry too much about him. Idunn focused more on the beautiful Dragonfang strapped to her hip.

“Out of every place on Earth I saw, it looked the most like home. And some of King Thor’s friends are currently residing here.” He said, slowing his pace when he noticed her struggling.

“Why would Thor’s friends… why would the Avengers be in Wakanda?” The man asked, and Idunn remembered his name; Banner. Bruce Banner.

“I have no idea, why do you ask?” Heimdall said.

“Wakanda is a tiny, third world nation. It’s small, poor, and has very few resources, besides a bit of vibranium that was stolen— well, it’s a long story…” He trailed off, looking between the incredulous stares of the Asgardians around him.

“I assure you, this is where we’re meant to be.” Heimdall gestured to the woman beside him, realizing he had not yet introduced her. “Idunn, this is Valkyrie.”

She nodded shortly to Idunn. “Captain,” then took a swig from a large flask she seemed to produce out of thin air. She offered it to Idunn, who eagerly took a gulp. It was strong liquor, at least five thousand years old, and she could feel the potency of it course through her veins like fire.

“Thanks,” she muttered, coughing, taking another swig and passing it back to her. She clapped Idunn on the back, who could already feel the spirits muddling her thoughts. “What is that?”

“Medicine for the soul.” Valkyrie drained the rest of the flask and tossed it over her shoulder while Idunn stared at her with wide eyes. She could tell Valkyrie was a few centuries older than she was, but that stuff was potent. How much did she drink?

As if she could read thoughts, she gave a side eyed glance and said, “We all grieve in our own ways.”

Idunn held up her hands. “I’m not judging.” She replied honestly. She was in no position to.

They finally reached the door. With a hiss, it dropped open slowly, the hatch dropping to the ground with a soft thud. Heimdall stepped forward, his hand on her back guiding Idunn forward into the bright light.

Once she blinked and her vision adjusted to the blinding sunlight, she could see a huge, grassy green field, rolling for what looked like miles, a lush forest stretching from the left corner of her eye. But more importantly, right in front of Idunn was a huge creature, grey and horned and enormous. She yelped in surprise and would have jumped back, had her uncle not still had a firm grip on her shoulder. With even more of a start, she realized there were more creatures, on the left and right, and men, Midgardians, standing with them.

The nearest one, a tall man draped in blue blankets, spoke in a Midgardian language. “Who are you and what is your business here?”

Heimdall stepped closer and they began to speak in low voices that Idunn could have easily listened in on, but instead, she turned your focus to the beautiful mountains she could see in the distance. They reached high into the sky, capped with bluish white snow and soft puffs of clouds.

A lump rose in her throat. From here, she could almost mistake it for her home near the base of the mountains of Asgard. Growing up, she’d run through them with Kari and Astrid, her best friend, racing and training and laughing all the way to the peaks. It had been centuries ago and she remembered it like it was yesterday.

Valkyrie tapping her shoulder snapped her out of those thoughts. “Come on.” Valkyrie gestured to Heimdall, who was walking forward with the Midgardian. She hurried to keep up, glancing backwards. “Where is Loki?” Idunn asked, half curious, half relieved that snake wasn’t coming with them.

“Staying on the ship with the rest of Asgard.” Valkyrie replied, rolling her eyes. She still wore the white and gold armor of the Valkyries, the armor she’d admired her whole life but never could quite replicate. “They figured he wouldn’t exactly be welcomed back with open arms.”

“He’s a right little twit, so I’m glad.” She added, and Idunn smiled a bit for the first time in what felt like a long time. “I guess we're the diplomats of Asgard now, eh?”

“I guess so.” She replied, eyes roaming the terrain again. The ground here almost seemed to bounce under their feet, the soil was so springy. “This planet is strange.”

“You’re telling me.” She scoffed. She turned to the nearest of the Midgardian men and called to him. “Hey! What’s going on?”

The man narrowed his eyes, then looked away and kept marching forward.

She turned back to Idunn. “See?” Valkyrie produced another flask from what seemed like nowhere and passed it over.

Idunn drank, and they passed it back and forth on the walk over, so that by the time they reached the border, she was pleasantly warm all over.

So, passing through the border was that much more startling, as it shimmered around them and a golden city suddenly sprang up before their eyes.

“What the fuck?” Valkyrie muttered. Idunn’s eyes widened as she looked around, taking in the enormous building they were being lead to. It seemed to shine gold, and the reminder of home again pulled at her heartstrings. The large panther statue overlooking it all almost seemed to hum with unfamiliar energy.

She was a bit intimidated, to say the least, but to stay diplomatic, she resisted the urge to rest her hand on Halvor’s hilt, instead lacing her fingers together behind her back. Her red cape fluttered in the warm breeze behind them, and she tried to relax. This wasn’t the worst place in the universe, after all.

Now Idunn saw what looked like a battalion of female warriors, all dressed in red and gold, marching to meet them before the palace. A man dressed in all black seemed to lead them, and a nervous looking man, paler than the rest, and blond, walked a bit apart from him, though he kept glancing over at him.

“Steve?” The Midgardian man pressed through from where he’d been walking behind the rest. Idunn startled; she’d forgotten he was there, and the possibility of recognition that came with it. For such a large population, Midgardians seemed to know an awful lot of each other. “Is that you?” Bruce stopped a few yards short of him, scanning him up and down, disbelieving and twitchy.

“Banner?” The man called Steve blinked, squinted through the light, and his face was momentarily troubled with a rush of emotions passing over it very quickly: surprise, confusion, joy. “Where the hell have you been?” He reached for Bruce, pulling him into a tight, short embrace.

“That’s… quite a long story, Captain.” Bruce said, trying and failing to sound upbeat.

“And who are all these people with you…?” Steve stepped back, scanning bright blue eyes over the small group of assembled strangers.

Heimdall stepped forward. “King T’Challa. Captain Rogers.” He greeted both with a nod and grim smile.

“And, who, may I ask, are you?” The one he had addressed as King T’Challa asked, eyes narrowed.

Before he could answer, the Steve Captain Rogers man spoke for him. “You’re Heimdall, aren’t you?”

“My king must have told you about me.” Heimdall said, his golden eyes squinting in the sunlight.

“Your king? You mean Thor? Is Odin…?” Captain Rogers trailed off, and Heimdall nodded gravely. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“That’s not all we lost.” Heimdall said in a low voice.

 “It sounds as though this would be better discussed inside.” King T’Challa interjected. His warm, dark brown eyes swept over Idunn and Valkyrie. “Let me welcome you to Wakanda. Please, follow me.”

♤♤♤

They took the small band of Asgardians inside the palace, the interior of which was just as beautifully extravagant as the outside. There wasn’t much time to admire it; before she knew it, Idunn sat in a room filled with the leaders of the Wakandan tribes, the King, his younger sister and head of technology, his General, Captain Rogers, Captain Rogers’ tired looking, metal armed friend, who was a Sargent of some kind, Bruce Banner, Heimdall, and Valkyrie. Heimdall was recounting the fall of Asgard to the rest of them after Bruce had explained as much as he could about where he had been and what had happened over the past few years (apparently he’d left Midgard after a large battle and ended up on Sakaar), but Idunn let her mind wander rather than listen to the details of the destruction of her homeland. She stared off into space, and it was only when Valkyrie nudged her that she noticed she had been staring at one of the tribe leaders, a rather large man who’d introduced himself as Lord M’Baku.

And he was staring back at her.

She immediately looked down at your lap, bashful. His deep brown eyes were intense, scrutinizing her features in a deep, probing manner that made her feel like she was on display. Idunn looked back a few seconds later and he was _still staring_. This time, she held his gaze steadily until he looked off to the right, a small smile touching his lips. He was draped in fur, wood, and leather, tough and soft all at once.

Valkyrie nudged her again silently as Heimdall spoke softly about Ragnarok, and raised her eyebrows. _“Who is that?”_ She mouthed, and Idunn shrugged.

Their king spoke, startling Idunn out of her thoughts about the Midgardian. “I am very sorry for your loss. It must be devastating to lose your home and begin again, especially for a people so long lived and traditional. We here in Wakanda are a people of tradition as well. We typically close our borders to all outsiders. But you can see how this may be different case. How many Asgardians are left?”

“I don’t have an exact number, but no more than one or two hundred, at this point, including us three and the king.” Heimdall said quietly. Idunn let out a quiet sigh and felt the gaze of the tribe leader from across the room fall on her once more.

“Does anyone in this room have any objection to the Asgardians staying with us, at least temporarily?” King T’Challa asked.

His younger sister, the girl called Shuri, leaned forward in her seat, her eyes lighting up. “From the second-hand accounts I have heard, Asgard has technology just as advanced, and perhaps even more so, than our own in Wakanda. If you stay, would you be willing to share it with us?” She spoke to the room at large, but her eyes focused on Idunn.

She cleared her throat nervously. “I cannot speak for everyone on the ship, but back on Asgard, I was a Captain in the Royal Guard, and I made weapons. I would be happy to show you what I know. I do not know what other talents lie in our remaining people. But much of our technology is paired with magic. Correct me if I am wrong, but I didn’t believe Midgardians were magic users.”

“Midgardians?” One of the tribe leaders, a man dressed in green with a plate in his lip spoke.

“That’s what they call this realm. Midgard.” M’Baku spoke. His voice was deep and powerful, and she tilted her head at him, a small smile on her lips. He turned back to look at her. “Do you use magic?”

“I’m not the most proficient.” She admitted, twisting her fingers together. “Most of what I can do is specifically for smith work. But I am willing to share what I can do.” She tapped the hilt of Halvor twice and he responded to her touch, pulsing with bright red energy. Idunn heard Shuri let out a small gasp of excitement.

M’Baku nodded, one corner of his mouth quirking up into a crooked half smile. Something, unnamable in the moment, fluttered in your chest, and she quickly turned her attention back to the king, who spoke again. “That sounds wonderful. After you get some rest, you and anyone else who is willing can meet with Shuri and begin that discussion. However, I am not sure where to house all your refugees. Wakanda is many things, but large is not one of them. We only have space available in the palace for perhaps one hundred of your people.”

“The Jabari tribe can shelter the rest.” M’Baku spoke again in his booming voice. “We have plenty of space in the mountains.”

_The mountains…_ Idunn knew, in that moment, she wanted to go with this man. Even if she tried to convince herself it was the pull of the mountains that drew her to his spirit, there was something else about him that intrigued the back of her mind. Whatever it was, she couldn’t put a finger on it.

The king continued to give instructions to Heimdall for bringing the rest of the Asgardians into Golden City and what to tell them, and abruptly, the meeting was over. Idunn rose shakily from her chair, took a step forward, stumbled, and nearly fell. In an instant, the man, M’Baku, was at her side, helping to right her to her feet.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and she nodded.

“I’m... I’m fine. Thank you.” She murmured, looking up at him. “I just… can’t remember the last time I ate. Or slept. Or… anything, really.” She bit her tongue when she realized what she was doing, looking down. “That’s probably why I’m oversharing right now. I apologize.”

“I cannot imagine what you must be going through.” He remarked. “But I can listen, if you would like to get something to eat? Would you like to share a meal with me and my people?”

“Hey!” The pair of them looked over to see the scientist, the Princess, Shuri, walking over with the ferocity of her gaze directed at Idunn. “I was just about to ask her that.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Idunn said, startled.

She glared at M’Baku, hands on her little hips. “You can’t steal her away. She made that! I want to talk to her.” Shuri added, pointing at Halvor strapped to her hip.

“Alright, _Princess_ ,” He said it more like a teasing nickname than a title of royalty. “You’ll have much time to speak with her.”

“Of course I will, she’s staying in the palace. But that’s not the point.” Shuri replied, narrowing her eyes.

“Uh, actually…” Idunn interjected, looking between the two. “I was wondering if I could maybe stay in the mountains with the Jabari?”

Shuri looked devastated. M’Baku looked a little smug. “But… your sword! I need to know what kind of metal you used, what kind of nanotechnology makes it respond to you like that!” Shuri pleaded, and Idunn felt a rush of affection for this girl, young even by Midgardian standards, so enamored with learning the secrets that science and the universe held. She reminded Idunn of herself a few dozen centuries ago.

“I said I would share with you, and I meant it.” Idunn promised her. “I am looking forward to it. But…”

“But not right now, Princess. Let her rest.” M’Baku declared. “I promise I will bring her back.”

♤♤♤

To her surprise, M’Baku did not pawn Idunn off on one of his guards or subjects, instead sending instructions to his own council on how to prepare for their guests, and then leading her on a walk to his home. He started to call for transportation before she stopped him, letting him know that she would love to walk through the mountains and see more of them.

“It’s quite cold.” He warned her. “And a long way to the top. We may be walking for a while.”

“Good.” She replied, relishing in the shock on his face. “I need to stretch my legs.”

“You’d better not pass out on me. I’m not in the mood to carry you up a mountain.” He said, a note of teasing in his grave voice.

“Asgardians are tougher than you think.” Idunn smirked, but her eyes were wistful. “And it reminds me of home.”

After that, he couldn’t argue. He led her on paths through the mountains, her leather and metal plated armor keeping her quite warm despite the snowy chill to the air. He pointed out strange and beautiful plant life and animals, specific not only to Midgard, but their small country of Wakanda itself. Idunn drank it all in with wide eyes, breathing the cool mountain air deep.

He told her stories of Wakanda, his tribe, the sacred wood of his people and how they worshipped the Ape God, Hanuman. He told her about his vegetarianism, compassion for the life of his planet coloring every word. He spoke of conflicts, new and old, near and far, in his realm.

In return, she shared her own stories. She told him of Asgard, the mountains so similar to the ones here, the breathtaking view of the immense city from the tops. She told him of battles fought and won as an Einherjar warrior, the weapons she made, the realms she traveled to. With a bit of gentle prodding, she told him about her brother, her friends, and what she had lost.

Two hours later, they reached his home near the peaks.

By then, Idunn had already fallen in love.


	2. Two

Entering his home, M’Baku suddenly seemed nervous, pointing Idunn to a seat while promising to have the food ready momentarily. She was surprised once more; she’d assumed as a high-ranking leader among his people, he would have someone to cook for him.

Her surprise must have shown on her face, because he chuckled at her. “In Jabari, there are not many formalities.” He assured her.

“Can I help?” She inquired.

“You cook? I thought you a warrior.” He mused, heading to the kitchen.

She followed, unclasping her cape from her shoulders and leaving it on the couch. “I could say the same of you.”

He chuckled, a low, smooth sound that made her heart clench in her chest. “I suppose so. Do you know how to make sambusas?”

“I can learn.” She replied, perching herself on the counter and looking expectantly at him.

“You are a guest in my home, Idunn. I cannot ask you to help me cook for you.” He said, frowning.

She didn’t move. “Well, then it’s a good thing you didn’t ask. So, what’s first?”

He shook his head and took a pan down from where it hung on the wall.

It took a little more than an hour, start to finish, since he insisted on showing her how to roll out the dough by hand, and she couldn’t get it exactly right at first.

“They need to be a little thinner.” He said, examining the half-flattened ball she was working on.

“When I roll them thinner, they split in half!” She complained, slamming it back on the counter with more force and necessary and grabbing the rolling pin. She _could_ cook, but she had never had the patience for it that her baby brother had; he’d been the real cook in their little family.

“Just be gentle.” He coaxed, stepping behind her and looking over her shoulder. “Here. Like this.” He placed his hands on hers, guiding her in rolling with short, smooth motions. “See? You’ve got it.”

“…Okay.” She whispered. Idunn could feel every inch of him pressing against her back, and his breath against her neck had her ears heating up.

When he moved away to grab more flour, she breathed a small sigh of relief. This man flew in the face of everything Idunn knew or assumed of Midgard and their people: he was huge, yet gentle, he was a warrior, yet his compassion was the most notable thing about him. He was a complexity, an enigma, and a luxury she could not afford to fall for.

“Here,” From behind her, he dumped a handful of flour on the dough in from of Idunn. Most of it settled nicely, but about a quarter flew up directly in her face and she coughed, waving the cloud of white powder with her hand. “Hey!” She complained, looking over her shoulder at him as she dusted off her shirt and face.

His eyes widened. “I apologize.” He said, but there was a small glint of amusement in his eyes.

On pure impulse, she reached, grabbed a bit of flour, and blew it at him. “Now we’re even.” She smirked.

There was a long moment where he stared directly in her eyes, seemingly deciding whether or not to retaliate. His gaze flickered down to her lips and back up, and your chest tightened quickly. She turned back to the dough and resumed rolling, missing the disappointed look on her host’s face.

Had he been about to kiss her?

Idunn had no idea, but the thought of it terrified her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, just the opposite: her heart screamed out for her to close the distance between them and capture his beautiful lips with hers. The electricity that danced on her skin with every brush against his told her that much. So what held her back?

She bit her lip to keep it from quivering. It was the fact that they were, quite literally, from different worlds. The fact that, despite their similar skin tones and features, she was well aware of the differences between Asgardians and Midgardians, most notably, in aging.

The fact that she wasn’t sure she could survive her heart being broken by someone else she loved leaving her.

♤♤♤

He sent her to sit down with a glass of rich, spicy red wine at the table, shooing Idunn out of his kitchen and insisting on at least serving her while the sambusas finished frying. She let her eyes flicker around his home as she sipped; it was warmly decorated, nearly everything made of richly colored wood, and beautiful oil paintings of different landscapes in gorgeously carved wooden frames hung on the walls. One was a perfect capturing of the mountains they had just walked through, every color a perfect match to what she could see just outside the window. In fact… Idunn tilted her head and squinted, just a bit. That was the exact scene outside the window, at the same angle and with the same details.

M'Baku entered the room, carrying plates full of the sambusas, and set one before her on the table. She smiled and thanked him, but her eyes kept flicking back to the painting.

“Did you do that?” She asked, nodding toward it.

He followed her line of sight to the painting and grinned, setting down the bite of food he was about to place in his mouth. “I did. Sitting right where you are, in fact.”

“I can tell. It’s beautiful.” She said honestly.

“Thank you.” He acknowledged, chewing over a bite before posing a question to her: “You’re an artist as well, though, no?”

She tilted her head at him, confused. He elaborated, “I believe you said you made weapons?”

Idunn thought back to her forge, the smooth, dark cave glittering with brilliant amethyst stalactites dripping from the ceiling, hot as an oven, the air humming with magic.

It made her heart ache. “I used to. I don’t know what I do now. Survive, I suppose.” She mused, trying to keep her voice fairly neutral.

“You can make weapons here.” M’Baku remarked, taking another bite. His eyes flickered to her plate. “Not hungry anymore?”

“Just distracted. Sorry.” She apologized, picking one up.

“Well, despite your interference, these are quite delicious.” He chuckled, squeezing a lime over his food. Idunn narrowed her eyes at him and picked one up, taking a large bite. The flavors burst over her tongue, and she practically moaned in pleasure and surprise. She felt his eyes on her face, carefully gauging her reaction as she swallowed.

“That is rather good.” She admitted, and took another bite.

The silence as they both enjoyed the meal they had created together was comfortable, neither feeling the need to fill it with idle chatter for the sake of politeness. Despite the mountain chill still hanging in the air, Idunn felt warm and at ease, and felt herself start to relax for the first time since... well, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this content. There was still an ache about her chest, but it was more a dull throb than a gaping wound now.

He insisted on clearing the dishes, and she lounged a bit, drawing one leg up to her chest, her heel on the edge of the dining chair. M’Baku returned to find Idunn staring out of the window again, her chin resting on her knee.

“Are you alright?” The deep timbre of his voice startled Idunn out of her thoughts, and she turned to him, nodding. He stepped a little closer, almost bashfully, to rest a hand gently on her shoulder. She shivered at the contact; it sent sparks across her skin. “It gets easier.” He murmured.

“…when?” She sighed, centuries of memories playing across the forefront of her mind. Loss was not an unfamiliar emotion to Idunn, but never had it been ~~so large~~ , so concentrated, and so immense.

“I wish I had an answer for you,” He whispered. She offered him a small, halfhearted smile. Both of them started at the knock on the door, and Idunn’s hand instinctively flew to grasp Halvor at her waist as he pulsed comfortingly in her palm. M’Baku strode to the door and she followed cautiously, but it was only one of the Jabari guards, a shorter woman with hundreds of small braids pinned back from her face, dressed in wooden armor.

“Yes, Nneka?” M’Baku asked, and Idunn dropped her hand from her sword, feeling foolish.

She saluted her leader and turned to the Asgardian warrior. “Lord Heimdall has requested Idunn’s presence.” She said.

She was a little peeved Heimdall had been appointed a title and she had not, but she followed the warrior down the hall, M’Baku at her side. Heimdall was waiting outside, looking enduring as ever wrapped in his cape, and Idunn found herself shivering as she cursed herself for leaving her cape behind in the suddenness of his summons. The temperature had plummeted even further, and their strange sun was just beginning its decent in the sky, painting the sky amazing shades of violet and crimson.

“Uncle?” She questioned as he turned his golden stare on her.

“We’re holding the funeral pyre tonight.” He spoke quietly.

“Oh…” was all she could manage. He nodded in understanding. “We’re not waiting for the King?”

“As much as I would like to, our people need to begin to heal.” Heimdall responded. She swallowed hard, looking down, and bobbed her head in agreement. “We should head down if you’re coming.”

“I get a choice?” She flicked her eyebrows skyward.

“You’re far old enough to make your own choices, Idunn.” He turned and began walking away. Even without his omniscient sight, he didn’t have to turn around to know she was following him. It surprised both of the Asgardians, however, when M’Baku stepped forward and spoke, the pair of them turning at his words. “May I come?”

Idunn regarded him carefully, but before she could speak, Heimdall addressed him. “As long as you’re respectful.” M’Baku nodded, his face neutral enough that she wasn’t sure exactly what he was thinking.

♤♤♤

The drive down was considerably quicker than the walk up, and they were back in Wakanda’s golden city before they lost too much sunlight at all. Idunn exited the strange vehicle and found herself before a rushing, foaming white river, flowing quickly to the left and ending in a churning waterfall. A large raft, piled high with wood, was tied off and waiting at the bank. She swallowed hard. She wanted to run back to the mountains and lose herself in them. She wasn’t ready for this.

She hated funerals.

Valkyrie spotted them and staggered over, clearly inebriated, but when she clapped Idunn on the shoulder and spoke, her voice was surprisingly steady. “Alright there, Idunn?”

Idunn swallowed hard and gave the most miniscule nod. Valkyrie grinned at her and pressed something into her hands before walking away. Idunn looked down. It was another flask. “Where are you pulling these from?” She yelled after the beautiful warrior, but she just looked back at Idunn with a laugh, not answering.

She sighed and pocketed the liquor. As much as she’d like to chug the entire thing, if only to steady her nerves, she knew that was just a patch on the wound.

No. She had to face death without running from it, like a real warrior of Asgard. An Einherjar. Like Kari.

Spaced out, Idunn didn’t notice M’Baku next to her until he nudged her shoulder, and she flinched, immediately feeling guilty when an apologetic look crossed his face. “I’m sorry.” She blurted before he could. “I’m just… a little on edge.”

“I don’t blame you,” He muttered, looking around at the hundred or so lost, misplaced Asgardians gathered on the banks of the river uneasily. They looked even more out of place under his judgmental stare. She frowned a little at him, but didn’t press it, in part because Heimdall had stepped in front of the pyre and begun to speak.

“Asgard, it is with a heavy heart that I stand before you today.” He addressed the crowd in his deep, booming voice. “As a people, we have survived, but that survival did not come without heavy loss. We mourn for our home. We mourn for the mother and fathers we have lost, the brothers and sisters, the friends and lovers, the sons and daughters we had to leave behind.” All around her, heads bowed silently, and Idunn joined them. She tried to focus on her uncle’s words, but a low, static buzz filled her ears, making her feel fuzzy and indistinct. Her eyes burned, but no tears fell. The ground felt even more unsteady beneath her feet for a moment, and she reached out to catch herself on the nearest thing to steady the spinning vertigo she felt. She caught M’Baku’s forearm and he looked down at her, concerned.

“Are you alright?” He whispered as Heimdall continued to speak.

She couldn’t meet his eye but whispered back a _yes_. He reached up, slowly and carefully, gauging your reaction, to take her hand, interlacing their fingers and giving it a light squeeze. Idunn’s lip trembled as she looked from his hand around hers to the soft expression on his face, and she squeezed back softly, looking out toward the pyre. Someone had handed Heimdall a torch, sparking with a magically lit flame that burned in every color of the rainbow, and he was turning to light the wood. The pyre caught easily and, within seconds, was burning bright. Valkyrie cut the rope that held it tied to land and gave it a push with her boot, sending the raft down the river, smoke billowing into the air as the colorful flames consumed it.

The banks were silent as they all watched the blazing sun set over the water, sending the last of its golden rays over the pyre. It reached the edge of the waterfall and began to topple over, the flames extinguishing themselves as stars seemed to soar upward in a nebula cloud from the raft. All around Idunn, her people created orbs of light in their hands, releasing them skyward as well. The familiar, simple jolt of energy coursed through her body as she created her own with her free hand and sent it up as well. M’Baku stared silently with an unreadable expression in the strange light. They glowed in the twilight, extinguishing slowly above their heads with a low hum she wasn’t sure Midgardian ears could pick up on.

A long silence followed, broken only by a few sniffles and noses blowing into handkerchiefs. Heimdall was the first to speak. “Thank you all for coming.” His voice was low but carried just as well through the crowd. Murmurings started up and the people began to disperse, presumably to find their way back to their temporary homes.

Idunn realized she was still gripping M’Baku’s hand, her grasp much tighter than it should have been. “Sorry.” She muttered, letting go, guilt coursing through her once more as he winced and flexed his fingers.

He waved it off with his other hand. “It would take more than a few squeezes to drain my strength.”

She wiped at her eyes, unsure of when the tears had begun to fall again. “Can we go, please?” She asked, her voice cracking. M’Baku nodded and led her away back to the mountains.


	3. Three

Idunn slept down the hall from him, in his home. Another surprise. She kept waiting on him to grow weary of her and pawn her off on one of his subjects. She’d slipped between the warm fur sheets and slept through the night, for the first time since leaving Asgard. She dreamed of nothing.

The blazing sunlight rising over the peaks woke her, but she rolled over, burying her face in the pillows with a groan. Despite her rest, Idunn was exhausted down to her bones, in her soul. A knock at her door, however, had her rolling out of bed in loaned pajamas, grasping for Halvor desperately. Every sudden sound was a threat.

“Idunn?” M’Baku’s voice came through the door. “Princess Shuri wanted to meet with you in an hour and a half.”

She yanked the door open, her sword still dangling loosely at her side. M’Baku looked down at it, then back up to her face, taking in Idunn’s half-flattened hair and tired eyes. He offered a stack of folded clothes: her armor and cape, freshly washed, and she sheepishly accepted it.

“Thank you.” She muttered, casting her eyes down. She felt stupid— she wasn’t in danger right now. She was just on edge, balancing precariously on the tip of a sword, any misstep ready to take her down.

When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, echoing her thoughts. “You’re not in danger here. No harm will come to you while you’re under my protection and that of my people.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just… on edge.” She replied, shifting her weight from one foot to the other uneasily. She failed to mention, however, that the edge seemed to vanish, or at least diminish, around him.

“I understand.” He said kindly and gestured to the door on the other side of the room. “There’s the bathroom. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask me.” He turned to go.

“M’Baku?” Her voice was small and quiet, and he turned back to her. “Are you coming, too?”

His mouth twisted into a small frown. “Unfortunately, I have business to attend to with my tribe. And I’m not so sure the Princess would want me in her lab.” He said almost ruefully. Idunn tried to hide her disappointment and nodded, plastering the tiniest smile at the corner of her lips.

“I will see you later today, though, eh?” He asked, a hint of hopefulness coloring his words. She grinned more widely, more genuinely, nodding once more, and was rewarded with a small smile from him in return before he walked down the hall and out of sight. She watched him go with a small pang that she pressed down and out of mind.

The bathroom held the same air of understated luxury as the rest of his home. The shower was hot and inviting, pounding her fatigued muscles into submission. If not for the hour and a half time constraint, she was certain she would have stayed in there all day. As it was, Idunn was nearly late, reveling all the options of water pressure and temperature, shampoos, soaps, oils, and scents. She forced herself out after forty-five minutes, wrapped in a fluffy towel, and dried as quickly as she could, her dark skin glistening and moisturized.

Much better than hiding out in a cave in the mountains.

Idunn was sure she could have dressed in any number of clothes in the dressers of her room, provided by the kindness of her host, but she was glad M’Baku had correctly guessed that she was more comfortable in her armor. She left her cape behind, not wanting to appear any more out of place than she already did, but didn’t hesitate to strap Halvor into place. The flask Valkyrie had passed her before the funeral sat on the dresser, and she hesitated for only a moment before stuffing it in her armor at her hip, beneath the sword. She wasn’t sure why, but something told her to bring it.

A vehicle was waiting outside, and the transport to the cliffside laboratory was breathtakingly swift and beautiful. The woman flying it introduced herself as Okoye, the General of the Dora Milaje.

She introduced herself as Idunn, only Idunn. Any titles she once held were obsolete now; master blacksmith and armorer, keeper of the _Brenna Loga Smida*_ , Einherjar captain, and member of the Asgardian Royal Guard. Now she was just… refugee. Reminded of that, she was silent for most of the ride, something she was sure Okoye interpreted as rudeness, as she was a bit colder to Idunn as she led her off the hovercraft and into the lab.

Shuri met them just outside the doors, bouncing in place with pent up excitement. “Idunn!” She grabbed the Aesir’s hand, pulling her inside after saluting to the General, who saluted back and headed off in the direction she came, clearly glad to be done with her escort duties. It would have hurt, but Idunn’s tolerance for pain was so much higher now that it barely registered.

Her eyes grew large as she took in the lab; everything gleamed in shades of white, silver, and glowing, electric blue. Graphic artwork adorned the spiral ramp in the center of the room, and the walls themselves didn’t seem to be walls at all. “Are we in a cave?” Idunn wondered aloud, accidentally cutting the Princess off in her explanation about an invention she had recently completed.

“Of sorts. We are actually underground.” She gestured to the wall of glass that Idunn had not far looked beyond. Now that she did, she saw a large, open cave, the walls glittering with blue-chrome metal. “That is vibranium; it powers our nation. It’s the strongest material on Earth and we use it to shape everything around us.”

“It’s beautiful.” Idunn remarked, pushing down yet another pang of homesickness. This was not her forge. “I’ve heard of vibranium, but never worked with it.”

Shuri beamed and continued to drag her around the lab, chatting excitedly about the gadgets she was working on, the ones she was improving, and the things she had planned. She spoke so quickly, the blacksmith’s head spun just trying to keep up. “I’ve already shown Dr. Banner around, and I could barely get him to leave. I’m setting up his own section in the lab to run any test on vibranium he wants to. He’s more interested in the properties, but I want to make things, you know? I’m as much a gadgeteer as a scientist.” After pulling her to various tables and workstations, Shuri gestured to the sword strapped to Idunn’s hip. “Will you tell me about that one?”

Idunn pulled it out, tapping the side of the arrowhead pommel twice so that Halvor pulsed with rainbow colored energy. She didn’t miss how the pair of Dora guards at the door tensed at the sight of it, their spears shifting ever so slightly in their grips in unspoken symmetry.

Shuri squealed in delight, however. “What _is_ it?” Her hand hovered over it as Idunn held it horizontally between the two of them.

“His name is Halvor.” She murmured, sighing as she ran a single finger over the knots etched painstakingly into the fuller. Halvor hummed under her fingertips, the metal warming pleasantly. “He’s fought at my side for centuries.”

She furrowed her brow. “ _Centuries?_ Idunn, how old are you?”

“Much older than you, Princess.” In Midgardian years, Idunn supposed she appeared to be in her early twenties, but she was well over twelve hundred years old. She carefully placed the short sword in the Princess’s waiting palms.

“How did you forge it?” She asked, turning it over carefully, seemingly disappointed when her poking and prodding did not lead to anything.

“I was the keeper of the Asgardian forges.” Idunn recalled, a small smile touching her lips and tugging the corners upward. “It’s made of enchanted Uru, and only responds to me. I can channel my magic best through it, as it took an incredible amount of magic and energy simply to shape it.”

“What do you mean, you channel your magic through it?” Princess Shuri asked curiously. “Like a magic wand of some kind?”

Idunn snorted. “Hardly. May I demonstrate?” Shuri held the blade out to her, handle first, and she took it back, not bothering to resheath it.

The Princess led her to a row of mannequins and pointed. “There.”

“Eh, it’s a bit… destructive.” She said, looking at the dummies. “I do not wish to break your lab.”

“You won’t _break_ my lab.” The Princess said scornfully. “Everything in here is made of the strongest metal on Earth. Come on, show us what you’ve got.” Despite her words, the Dora near the door looked nervous at the mention of ‘breaking the lab’.

Idunn took careful aim at the center dummy, wearing a black suit with silver teeth at the collar, and let out a small wave of her weakest fire magic, flowing from her center, up your arm, and through the blade, exiting the side as a flash of red energy as she slashed across it diagonally.

The mannequin flew halfway across the room before skidding to a stop, bursting into flames, and burning for a few seconds before disintegrating on the spot into a pile of black ashes. Idunn blinked in surprise. At least, she’d _thought_ it was her weakest magic. Once it had pulsed through her, it felt… different.

She turned back to Princess Shuri, biting her lip at the slack jawed look upon her face. “Sorry…”

“That was my newest suit!” She exclaimed, running over to the dust and sifting a bit through her fingers.

“I’m so sorry, I really tried to be gentle.” Idunn apologized profusely, sheathing the blade.

She waved off the apologies. “It’s fine. I will have to improve.” Still, she looked vaguely shaken at just how _easily_ the Asgardian had taken down what should have been the strongest suit of armor on the planet. “I have been working on some new sword prototypes as well since you arrived.” She led Idunn to a solid wall and tapped one of the beads on her bracelet. The panel opened, revealing a pair of black swords that left her stumbling a few steps backward.

“I based them on some things I found from Norse mythology. Do you like them? They’re obsidian and vibranium alloy.” Shuri continued, completely unaware of the edges of Idunn’s vision darkening as the room spun around her. She pulled one from its display, tracing the strange, curvy shape with her index finger. “We’re more partial to spears than swords here, but I think they’re nice.”

Idunn was going to vomit. It was a necrosword. If she had not pulled it from his body and destroyed it yourself, she would have been certain it was the exact same one Hela had slain her brother with only days before. “I… I need to go.”

Shuri frowned, holding it out hilt first. “Are they not accurate? I can redo them.”

“ **No!** ” Idunn shouted, louder than she intended. Vaguely, she was aware of the guards moving toward her, but she simply turned on her heel and _ran_ , needing to get as far away from that sword and the memories it triggered as she could.

Unfortunately, she could only outrun one of them.

Even as she made it out of the lab and back into the field outside, she felt trapped. The fresh air helped, but she continued to sprint blindly, not stopping until she found herself surrounded by oddly colored flowers and tall hedges. The former Captain sank to one knee, panting, and dug her fingernails into her palms, the sharp pain momentarily clearing her mind. She was too broken to even cry.

Idunn fumbled for her own sword at her waist, seeking the familiar comfort of the hilt and something to hold onto as she fell to pieces. Instead, she felt the flask, still slipped beneath her armor, hard against her hip. She didn’t even hesitate before yanking it out, unscrewing the top, and draining half of the millennia old liquor in one go, coughing as it went down hard. The burn was a welcome distraction, though, and she sucked down the rest without thinking.

Breathing hard, she nearly tossed the flask aside before noticing it had refilled itself. Upon closer examination, the Aesir realized she could feel Asgardian magic pulsing softly through the Uru container. It was enchanted.

Already feeling the effects, she took a slower, more measured gulp, the heat spreading across her chest pleasantly. She looked around for the first time since she’d run in, and found their strangely spiked palace towering over her. Tall, flowering hedges surrounded Idunn on every side, along with trees and hard packed dirt paths. _This must be their royal gardens_.

She wasn’t sure if she were even allowed to be there, but the alcohol was beginning to cloud her judgement, reducing the blacksmith to more basic instincts. And right now, she wanted to look at the flowers.

So she did.

The garden was set up as some kind of maze, and she touched the vibrant petals gently as she passed, marveling at their sweet scent. It was like nothing else she had ever seen. Nothing she had ever heard of.

The ground seemed to sway beneath her feet, sudden and dizzying. Idunn spotted a stone bench, intricately carved and beautiful, a few feet away, and sank onto it gratefully. The realization that she had drunk entirely too much was slowly dawning.

“Well, that was smart, Idunn.” She slurred to herself. “Get fucked up first thing in the morning after offending the people who took you into their home. Fuckin’ dumbass.” She dug the toe of her boot into the dirt.

What would Kari say if he could see her now? She was a mess. She could almost feel his eyes on her, disappointed and worried. “That’s right, brother.” She mumbled to him. “I lived, and this is how I’m wasting that life.”

She choked on a sob. “I just… I keep wondering if I could have saved you. If I had forged you a better weapon, better armor, enchanted it better, maybe I could have protected you.” Idunn wiped at her eyes. “And now I’m on Midgard, and everything is so different, but so much is the same. I miss home. I miss the forges. I miss _you_.”

Unaware of the figure sitting down next to her on the bench, she continued to ramble on to nothing. “I want to hate it here, but everything is so beautiful. Even the people. I’m so _stupid_ , Kari. I can’t fall in love with a Midgardian man. I can’t but I am anyway.” She tried to take another swig from the flask and was startled when a hand plucked it from her grasp before it reached her lips. Turning her head as quickly as she could only resulted in another wave of dizziness, and once her eyes focused, she saw Valkyrie draining it instead.

“Yeah, I think you’ve had enough.” She said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Your surprise must have reflected in your drunken eyes because she chuckled at you. “Don’t worry. It’s not like I’m one to judge.”

Well, that was good, because Idunn immediately leaned over and vomited into the hedges. The nausea had snuck up on her, and when she finally lifted her head, Valkyrie was holding another flask out. Idunn recoiled, but she just laughed. “It’s just water, I promise.” She promised, seemingly sincere.

Idunn took it warily, but swished her mouth out and spat, feeling rude, before she took another sip, this one slower, measured.

“Better?” She asked, standing. Idunn tried to match her movements but sat heavily back on the bench before she made it halfway up. Valkyrie hauled her up by her elbows, and she nearly staggered into her. “Easy, easy.” She laughed, slinging Idunn’s left arm over her shoulder. “Let's get you cleaned up and back to the mountains, eh?”

Idunn stopped dead, dragging her heels in the dirt. “I caaan’t,” She slurred, clearly upset.

“Why's that, love?” Valkyrie was surprisingly patient with you.

“That’s where _he_ lives, and I can’t seeeee him anymore.” Idunn whined, stomping her foot angrily.

“Yeah, okay, we’re going,” Valkyrie said, and in one fluid motion, slung the blacksmith over her shoulder, skillfully dodging her feet as she tried to kick her in the face. Evidently, that patience had run out. Idunn started to squirm in her grip before realizing every upside-down movement brought on another wave of dizziness.

“Nooooo, put me doooown,” She whined, closing her eyes to combat the spinning. She felt herself being loaded into some sort of vehicle, but didn’t open them even as it jolted with movement. The next thing she knew, she opened her eyes and found herself on M’Baku’s couch. She sat up sharply. “What the hell?” Idunn slurred, still drunk, but less so.

Valkyrie strode into the room. “Don’t worry, he’s still not back yet.” She handed the Asgardian another glass of water and, to her surprise, sat next to Idunn on the couch. “Go on, then, drink up.”

She sipped it slowly, training her eyes on her apparent minder. “Sorry you had to… see all that.” She mumbled after a few swallows.

Valkyrie waved it off. “Trust me, I understand. I’ve seen… and done much worse.” Valkyrie sighed deeply. “And… I’ve realized as of late that drinking your problems away to cope… to forget, it doesn’t help. But maybe talking does. I haven’t really tried that one yet.”

“If you want, ‘m all ears. And hands and arms and shoulders and eyes and… you know what I mean.” Idunn gestured vaguely to herself.

“That was more an invitation for you to talk to _me_ instead of the empty air, but sure, sunshine, if that’s what it takes.” Valkyrie told he before taking a small swig of a flask she pulled from thin air. She saw the look Idunn gave her. “Oh. Habit, sorry.” She tossed it over her shoulder with a crash.

“Well, for starters, you do know my name isn’t _actually_ Valkyrie, right?” She asked.

Idunn shrugged. “I figured once I saw your tattoo. You were a Valkyrie, right? What _is_ your name?”

“Not just **a** Valkyrie, love. **The** Valkyrie. I was our fleet captain and leader.” She sighed again, this breath seeming to release some of the tension from her shoulders. “For so many years, I haven’t had a name… but it’s Brunnhilde.”

“Brunnhilde.” She repeated, liking the way it felt on her lips. “That’s beautiful. But why haven’t you told anyone?”

It was her turn to shrug. “Nobody asked. Until you.”

A warm fire lit through the blacksmith’s chest, and this time, it wasn’t from the alcohol. “Oh. Then I’m glad to be the first.”

“I am, too.” She squeezed Idunn’s wrist briefly, her warm fingers leaving her skin regretting their departure.

“Can I call you Hilde?” Idunn asked.

Her eyes softened, hurt brimming near the edges and threatening to spill over. “The last person to call me that… she’s been gone for centuries.”

“What was her name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Brunnhilde snapped, but softened at Idunn's apologetic look. “Astrid.”

“Is that why you ran?”

“No. Yes. Not completely… gods.” She brushed at the corners of her eyes. “Hela killed her, same as Kari, whoever he was. I’m assuming.”

Idunn’s chest tightened. “Same as everyone else I love? Yeah.”

“Everyone?” Her eyebrows flicked upward.

“He was my little brother.” Idunn said, choosing to ignore her comment.

“I saw the swords. I told the Princess why you left in such a hurry. Or at least, why I thought you left.” The surprise must have reflected on Idunn’s face, because she elaborated: “She’d asked me to come in to see my Dragonfang. You ran right past me on your way out the door.”

Idunn hadn’t even seen her. “M’sorry,” She mumbled. Brunnhilde shrugged.

“Hela slaughtered my entire fleet. And I was the one to lead them in.” She laughed bitterly. “I should have died along with them. But _she_ saved me.”

The way Brunnhilde pronounced the last sentence, she knew. “You loved her.”

“I did. I do.” She looked Idunn square in the eye. “And I do not regret a single moment I’ve spent loving her.”

Tears welled up in Idunn’s golden brown eyes. “But doesn’t it hurt?” She asked desperately, wanting to cling to anything she could before her self-control fell away completely.

“Like being burned alive by the Eternal Flame.” She confirmed, her gaze never wavering. “Being with her… the time we had, however short, was worth every second of pain I endured after.” With that, she stood, brushing away the lone, escaped tear from Idunn’s face with her thumb. “Just my advice.”

“You… you’re leaving?” She hiccupped.

“I think you have some things to think about… by yourself. Don’t let me crowd the thought process. And…” She tucked a stray lock behind your ear. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Idunn was confused.

“You can call me Hilde.” A brief brush of her lips over her forehead, and she was gone with her next blink.

Bit by bit, Idunn sobered up, head and heart aching as one. Her visions were gone, replaced by a whirlpool of thoughts spinning through her mind at top speed. Could she really have fallen in love with this man so quickly? It was ridiculous. Still, she felt an extraordinary pull to him, so much so that everything else seemed to fall away when he was around.

More than anything, he felt like home.

Was that something she was going to run from because she was afraid of losing her home again?

Idunn knew she had to tell him.

♤♤♤

When M’Baku returned that evening, it was with a strange, keyed up energy surrounding him. Idunn was still just a bit tipsy, but had cleaned herself up, and the only lingering trace of alcohol was the slight burn in her chest. It was just enough to give her the confidence for her confession, but before she could even speak, he was pulling her back out the door he’d come through with no more explanation than “ _I want to show you something.”_

_Something_ turned out to be a small clearing halfway down the mountains, full of the Midgardian life and biodiversity she’d always admired about this planet. The sun was setting again, brilliant and blazing, and tiny spots of blue, red, and green light blinked through the humid air, settling on tall blades of grass and the leaves of the trees surrounding them.

“What are those?” Idunn breathed, gazing around in wonder.

“The lights? We call them fireflies,” M’Baku explained, a few feet away, searching her face intently. “Luminescent bugs; they come out at sunset.”

Birds called, insects chirped, and a warm breeze blew across her dark, sweating skin; in their silence, it was anything but quiet as she took in the meadow. “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“This is where I come when I’m overwhelmed, when I need to think, when I need to seek beauty or inspiration.” He confessed, and Idunn finally tore her eyes away from searching the dizzying exquisiteness laid before her to meet the equally dizzying, intense set of his stare. “I’ve not needed to seek such beauty since I met you.”

“M’Baku…”

He held up a hand to stop her. “Idunn, please, just let me say this before I lose my nerve.” He stepped closer, slowly, deliberately, as if not to send her running like a startled rabbit. She didn’t move a muscle, the hairs on the back of her neck pricking as if they sensed danger. She pushed down the paranoia and focused on the way his hands felt around hers as he took them.

“I know this sounds strange. I’ve barely known you for two days. But there’s this… I feel this pull to you. Like I’ve known you my whole life. Like we’re meeting again after a long time. Like we are—”

“Shh!” Idunn cut him off; however enthralled she was by his words and actions, a movement, chrome glinting out of the corner of her eye raised the alarm in her mind. Suddenly, she was back on Asgard, ducking around trees and through underbrush, fighting off Berserkers and searching for any others on the run. She wrenched her hands from his and drew her sword.

To his credit, M’Baku seemed more confused than upset, stepping back and letting his eyes roam from Idunn to the trees at the edge of the clearing, following her line of sight. “What did you see?”

“Something. Someone. Or I thought I did, at leas— **M’Baku**!” She screamed as a knife flew past from the opposite direction. She twisted out of harm’s way on pure instinct, and cold dread flooded her chest, like jumping into an icy lake, as it buried itself in his shoulder instead.

She spun on the spot, angling her body to protect the man she loved, and faced a man draped in black blankets, a hood covering his eyes.

He shrugged, and Idunn caught a flash of brilliant white teeth as he grinned. “Sorry. I missed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Brenna Loga Smida – Old Norse for the Heat of the Forges


	4. Four

Idunn screamed.

There were no words, just a prolonged, primal shriek of rage and fear. Before she could charge at the man and run him through, turning him to dust, the blood covered knife sailed back over her head. It would have hit its mark had the assailant not dodged, his hood falling back in the process.

To the Asgardian, he was just another threat. His dark, dotted face made her no difference. But the shock in M’Baku’s voice from behind her, even through the pain, was clear. “ _W’Kabi_?”

She looked between them incredulously, now unsure if killing him was the best option. “You know this man?”

“This _traitor_ ,” M’Baku growled, clutching his bleeding shoulder, “has been banished from Wakanda for months.”

Idunn’s hand tightened on the hilt of her sword as this W’Kabi chuckled humorlessly. “A traitor who only sought to serve the throne and who sat on it at the time. Whereas you, Great Gorilla, you consort with this filth? This alien?” He drew another weapon: a curved, intricate blade that she may have admired under different circumstances.

M’Baku barked in fury, but she spoke before he could open his mouth again. “Filth? Coming from a self-admitted traitor? You disgust me.” She spat, shaking with rage. Her vision tinted red and tunneled until she could only see his hostile face. She flipped Halvor down and rushed at him, drawing her muscular arm back. He pulled his blankets up and forward, and a glowing blue shield materialized before him just as she struck.

Idunn grunted, the red hot and cold blue contact of sword and shield traveling up her arm in dizzying waves of energy. She shook it off as he advanced, drawing his curved blade and using her momentary distraction to his advantage.

W'Kabi struck.

His vibranium blade bit into the knobkierie.

M’Baku moved rather quickly for someone with a grievous injury.

“M'Baku, I can—” Idunn's voice wavered.

“Let me deal with this traitor. For Wakanda.” His stance did not falter, though blood still fell from his arm. W’Kabi looked wildly between the two.

Idunn swallowed her pride in sake of his. “For Wakanda.” She echoed, a bit weaker than his own conviction.

“Who else but I could save Wakanda from these colonizers?” W’Kabi mocked as Idunn’s blood ran cold. “Do the Jabari truly not know the nature of Asgard? They’ve colonized more than the white men of this planet could ever dream. Nine Realms, if I remember correctly.” Another _thud_ of vibranium against wood. “Earth is one of those realms. Ask your girlfriend how long she’s been fighting in war, colonizing the universe.”

M’Baku drew his knobkierie around and slammed it into W’Kabi’s side. “Shut your mouth!”

“Admit it, Great Gorilla,” he taunted, advancing, shield up. “You’re as bad as them.”

The battle was swift and short, each blow matched to another. Idunn watched with anxious eyes, her grip tightening and loosening with every quickened heartbeat that raced through her chest. Should she step in? She knew this was a matter of honor.

She also knew she couldn’t lose him.

It was a firefly that did it. The tiny, glowing creature landed on the arrowhead pommel of _Halvor_ , and she jerked in surprise. Her movement drew M'Baku's eye, and in that moment, he faltered.

The gasp escaped her lips, not his, when the blade sunk into his stomach. M’Baku simply looked down and crumpled to his knees soundlessly.

Idunn’s vision went red, internally and externally, as _Halvor_ glowed brighter than he ever had. The scream that parted her lips was primal with rage. The man she loved lay dying. She did the only thing she could think of.

W’Kabi crumbled into dust the moment her sword ran him through.

She dropped to her knees after sheathing the sword, hovering over the prone man whose eyes were beginning to roll back into his head. He was on his back, and she began to take note of more injuries as her mind raced; livid purple bruises across his temple, likely from the force of the energy shield. A peppering of small cuts here and there over onyx dark skin. His face went slack, and that was when she saw the brightness of infection at the jagged edges of his wounds.

Poison.

_“What do I do?”_

“M’Baku, _please_ ,” Idunn begged, each of her hands pressing against the bloody holes in his chest, his stomach, his life seeping out before her eyes. She cursed herself for the path she’d chosen; had she studied healing magic rather than war, death, and destruction, she may have been able to save him.

Midgardians were so _delicate_. One wrong move, and their bright, short lives ended too soon. “Wake up. Please, I need you to wake up.” She was ashamed at how her voice broke as tears began to fall. The blood continued to flow, the heavy metallic scent of it causing her head to start spinning. She didn’t know what to _do._ Idunn blinked, and the body in her arms was Kari; limp, lifeless, head lolling back.

A sob caught in her throat. She blinked, and her brother was gone.

Another flash of silver caught the corner of her eye. She didn’t turn. Couldn’t. She simply angled her body over his protectively. All that mattered was the man before her and protecting him. Saving him. She could save him.

He stirred.

“M’Baku?”

He groaned wordlessly, and she lifted him into her arms. “Where do I take you?” She asked desperately. She had no transportation; the massive, hovering vehicles that the Wakandans used were by requisition of citizens, and the cities in both directions were equally separated by wilderness and mountainside.

He groaned again, and she made up her mind, sprinting down the mountain toward the lab she had fled only hours ago. Idunn willed her limbs to move faster, holding the most precious cargo to her chest as her feet flew. He felt weightless, but she would have hauled the entire mountain down around him if that was what it took. Any lingering trace of the alcohol was long gone from her veins; now they were filled with a different type of fire.

“I love you.” Her whispers were lost to the wind. “I _love you_. I can’t lose you, please.”


	5. Five

Her arrival in the Princess’s lab was met with hostility for the briefest moment. Then the Dora Milaje rushed in, and the Great Gorilla was swept from her arms, orders were shouted, and chaos descended.

One of the Dora attempted to take Idunn into custody. She resisted for only a second before realizing that would only make her situation worse, knowing she could easily fight off the tight hold on her dense muscled wrists.

“Let her go!” The sharp voice of the General came, Xhosan, and the grip on her wrists was dropped. “You think she did this? She brought him here.”

“Yes, General.” The Dora behind her responded, replacing the twist in her arms with a small, warm hand on the small of Idunn's back, ushering her in, albeit none too gently. They started down the spiral ramp, and far below, Idunn saw flashes of physicians swarming and barking orders at one another. The Princess was in the thick of it all, and even from this distance, Idunn could see the personal touch to the distress on her face. She briefly recalled their banter when they’d first arrived, and realized she'd never figured out exactly what their playfully antagonistic relationship was about.

Her attention was pulled back to her own surroundings as the bald warrior behind her abruptly led her off the ramp and into another room on a higher level of the lab. The General waited for Idunn there.

“Tell me what happened.” The accent of her words were heavy, weighted with seriousness.

Idunn, still trembling and now hating that she was aware of it, recounted the story the best she could, as briefly as possible. “Lord M’Baku took me to a spot in the mountains he wanted to show me. Not long after we arrived, we were attacked. _I_ was attacked, and he stepped in to defend me and Wakanda. He did not let me fight. He was stabbed. Possibly poisoned. When M’Baku fell, I stepped in and finished him off.” She recited dully.

“ _Him?_ ” General Okoye raised an eyebrow.

“He called himself W’Kabi.”

The Dora behind her drew in a sharp gasp, and General Okoye looked as though she’d swallowed a sword without the hilt. “W’Kabi? You’re certain?” She demanded.

“That’s what he said…” Idunn trailed off, glancing between the hairless warriors. She was starting to feel that she was missing something; that she had killed someone important, and in doing so, that she had made a mistake.

“And you killed him?” General Okoye asked, her words like splintered glass shattering from her throat.

“Yes.”

The General turned away, pressing a hand briefly to her mouth as though to compose herself, before spinning back to face Idunn. “You speak _nothing_ of this unless I am present and command you to. Tell no one. Do you understand?”

Idunn had a feeling she’d be on the receiving side of the silver and gold spear if she did not agree, and she was weary of battle, at least for now. Something she never thought she would admit to herself. Still, it seemed the best course of action either way; she wasn’t eager to go around bragging of a Midgardian kill.

Even if he was a traitorous speck of scum who had tried to murder someone she loved.

“I understand.” She spoke quickly. “Will Lord M’Baku be okay?”

The General tapped at the beads on her wrist that everyone in this odd country wore. A holographic projection appeared, lines of text that you didn’t bother to read. “Princess Shuri has stabilized his condition, but the poison was made with vibranium. She has not yet found an antidote. Lord M’Baku has not yet awoken.” She looked back up at you, her dark eyes flashing. “Where is his body?”

A much bigger deal than she’d originally thought. Idunn almost regretting killing the worm.

Almost.

“I killed him with my sword.” She said carefully, both hands raised above the hilt at her waist. She wanted to come off as little as a threat as possible. “The forge magic I wield turned him to dust and ash. There is no body.”

The General took a deep breath and seemed to steel herself against a wall of mixed emotion. “Very well. Is there no one else who may vouch for your story?”

The words strung like a slap in the face. Yes, she was Asgardian, but untrustworthy? “Why would I pick a fight with a Midgardian man? If that is, in fact, what you are implying.” A short exhale huffed through her nose, an annoyed tick that Kari always called her “dragon’s breath”.

“Answer the question.”

Idunn fought the urge to roll her eyes as if she were only 250 years old. “No one was there but us.”

“I see. Until Lord M’Baku awakens and can give us his tale of the events, you are to remain in the Palace under guard. Kuhle, escort Idunn to a room. I must speak with the king.” The General spoke quickly, and Idunn could have sworn she’d seen the slightest tremble in the spear she carried. Okoye was gone before she could tell.

The Dora Milaje placed her hand back on the small of Idunn’s back to guide her once more, but now that the shock had worn off, she jumped at the touch, and away from it. “Just… lead the way.” Idunn sighed.

Wonderful. Back to being stuck somewhere she did not want to be, away from those she loved. She stole another glance down the ramp to find the chaos dispersed and M’Baku nowhere in sight. The panic began to set in and she forced it down deep in her gut. _Now is not the time_.

♤♤♤

Her quarters were plush and lavish, even more so than the relatively homey room during her brief stay with the Jabari. Still, that did not change the fact that, for all intents and purposes, it was a cell: two warrior women stood posted outside her door at all hours, and she was effectively cut off from communication to anyone she had left to speak to. She received no updates on M’Baku, not for lack of trying; the Dora Milaje guards were surely fed up with her questions on the hour, every hour, like clockwork.

_Is he still stable?_

_Has the Princess developed and antidote yet?_

_Is he any worse?_

_May I see him?_

The Dora stood, still and silent as statues, and barely batted an eye, much less spared Idunn a glance.

Her panic grew.

She couldn’t sit still for more than a handful of seconds at a time.

Her palms itched.

She thought she might go mad.

It had only been four and a half hours.

On top of it all, they had stripped her of _Halvor_. She knew why, logically. But now it felt as if she truly had nothing. It was just her and four walls, black and faintly patterned with the same type of graffiti that had decorated the Princess's lab.

The Wakandans weren’t cruel. There were books, slim digital readers by her bed, on the nightstand. Any number of mindless videos, games, and other small entertainment items were there at her disposal.

She touched none of them. Nothing could hold her attention for long, even this odd new Midgardian subculture.

She just wanted him. What had he been about to say in the meadow?

She realized she’d told him she loved him. He likely hadn’t heard her, but that didn’t change the fact.

Did he feel the same way she did?

Her body seemed to pulse hot and cold. Nothing made sense. Thoughts became fragments.

A knock at her door pulled her back. It swung open of its own accord, and Valkyrie— no, Brunnhilde entered.

“Well, aren’t you a sore sight for eyes. Is that the human’s phrase?” She remarked, taking in Idunn’s blood-stained armor and trembling hands. The Dora had offered Idunn new clothes; they filled the dressers and closet. She’d refused to change. The snug fit of metal and leather surrounding her was the only homegrown comfort she had left, his blood the only piece of M’Baku here with her, however disgusting that was.

“It’s sight for sore eyes.” Idunn meant it to come off snappy, but she was too exhausted. She realized she’d been pacing for the past hour or so, and sank down on the edge of the pillowy soft bedspread.

“Yeah, isn’t what I meant, love.” Hilde sat beside her and, surprisingly, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “The Princess thinks she may have found an antidote. She’s testing it now. Either way, Lord M’Baku is awake, and he’s asking for you. Change into something decent, and I can tell you the rest on the way.”

Idunn was dressed and ready within five minutes. Four guards flanked them, two leading, two following, as Brunnhilde filled her in. “He has already corroborated your story, and their General and King trust him. The last he remembers is being stabbed. He woke two hours ago.” She recited the facts dully, as if bored, but her sharp gaze tore into Idunn’s face.

“Where is my uncle?” Idunn asked. She’d have expected him to collect her before anyone else.

“Meeting with their elder council, trying to appease them.”

“Where is the Prince? Shouldn’t he be dealing with all this?”

“No one can find him.” Hilde admitted. 

“What?!”

“The snake has either slithered off or was never here in the first place.” She rolled her eyes. “Heimdall thinks he left the ship with Thor. I don’t believe he’s that selfless. But no one has seen him since we left the ship, and an illusion is just what he’d do.”

Idunn took a few moments to process this all. “What do you mean, Heimdall is trying to appease their elder council?”

“They aren’t happy with the Asgardians in their country any longer.” Brunnhilde rolled her eyes once more. “The whole thing is ridiculous.”

Idunn’s shoulders sagged. In just a few days, she’d ruined everything. The home she had found, that her people may have needed, was threatened. Endangered.

The steps she took quickened. “This is my fault.” She whispered, too low for anyone but Hilde to hear.

Brunnhilde stopped and grabbed her arm. “Stop. No. I’m not going to let you put that on yourself. Growth, remember? Moving past all that, love. No one’s fault but the idiot with the bad luck to cross your path.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Idunn snapped. “If I had just incapacitated him…”

“That wouldn’t change the status of the man who was poisoned and is waiting for you now.”

“I lost control.” She whispered, ashamed. An Einherjar didn’t loose control. A master forger? Never. She attempted to hold tight to the notions of her old life carried over into her new one. Why couldn’t she get a grip on anything?

“Move on and do better next time. Come _on_.” Hilde huffed, impatient, and tugged Idunn down the hall. She offered little resistance.

None of this could prepare her for the man she saw in the lab, however. Within those few short hours, the ones that felt like they’d lasted a lifetime, he’d shrunk. Shriveled into himself. M’Baku was a large man, tall, but against the stark white of the sheet, he looked smaller, and grey around the edges. He pushed himself up to his elbows on the table when he saw her, wincing as he did so.

Idunn hesitated. Not out of fear, not directly. The apprehension she felt was worry, not only for him, but the trouble her presence would cause.

What did she say to him?

“Idunn.” His voice was rough with pain and emotion. “You came.”

“You called.” She whispered back, distantly aware of the former Valkyrie’s presence leaving her side. The Dora moved to give more privacy but did not go far. The table seemed to stretch in distance as she walked toward it. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You did not do this.” He gestured at the dressed bandages on his chest, his uncovered torso, with a casual air that drew an angry lump to her throat.

“For listening to you, you stubborn gorilla.” The tears were already threatening to spill over. “I thought my pride was incorrigible, but you’ve taken yours to new heights.”

“You sound like you’re mad at me.” M’Baku said mildly, a frown starting to touch the corners of his mouth.

“I’ve been worried out of my mind!” Idunn exploded. Oh. There it was. “Are you kidding? You idiot! I would have handled the whole thing, but you had to go and butt your head in! I distracted you and you got hurt, do you have any idea how guilty I feel?”

“Idunn—”

“And on top of all that, you’re poisoned, and no one else was there to see us, and no one believes me, and I just,” the next step she took forward, she stumbled into his table, palms pressed against the smooth metal surface to steady herself. He reached for her, and she choked back a sob. “Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I feel fine, Idunn.” His voice was steadier than hers. “I have faith in their Princess to find a cure.”

Their— she recalled how he’d told her the Jabari tribe operated under their own rule, for the most part. She still did not understand their relationship, but now was not the time to ask. “I’m sorry,” she echoed her previous apology.

“For what? You saved my life.” His large hands closed over hers and rubbed slow circles on the backs of them, her skin tingling at his touch as it always did. “And I never did tell you why I brought you to the meadow, though I regret not just saying it in the first place. You deserved a better setting.”

“And here? Is this the place?” Idunn trembled, fighting her natural instinct to lean away, to draw back, to get away from whatever compelled her to feel this way for a man she’d just met. It was ridiculous. It was fatalistic.

It was undeniable.

“Isn’t it?” He murmured, wincing a bit as he shifted. His eyes had never looked more captivating. She’d never felt less in control.

But maybe that was okay.

“I’m afraid I can wait no longer, _ifemi_.” A small part of her brain, one she could not focus on, translated the word, and her heart skipped a beat. “Hanuman knows it’s ridiculous to wait at this point.”

“But you heard what he said. None of it was untrue. Asgard _did_ colonize the Nine Realms. To bring peace, yes, but I was a part of that. I was on the front lines of some of the battles, M’Baku.” She said bitterly. “On Jotunheim, on Svartalfheim. I was here with the Norse in the time when they thought us all Gods; briefly, but here nonetheless.”

He took a moment to absorb that. “Truly?”

Idunn nodded. “And now eight Realms remain with no watchful eye, and chaos will reign soon enough. It’s—” her heart beat desperately, the words spilling before she could stop them. “a mess. It’s all a mess, and who knows what that ship will come for next?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you are my soulmate.”

Her heart stuttered to a stop. Her breathing slowed, then sped again. She was frozen in place by his words, thrown out as casually as announcing the weather. “I am?”

“Do you deny it?” Warm brown eyes bore into her own, the color of the soil outside the _Brenna Loga Smida_.

She couldn’t, and shook her head slowly, not trusting her words.

The word she had been terrified to admit to herself all along. The reason for the odd pull she could not explain, the source of her fear.

 _Soulmate_. Her _threyja._

Such a simple word. Why did it scare her so much?

It was what it represented, the finality and the seriousness of it. That her soul was tied to his so intimately, that she was drawn to him by cosmic force as well as her own attraction to the beauty she saw in every inch of his being.

“Then why do you run from it? From me?”

“Because I can’t lose you, too.” Her voice broke.

“You will not.” Even as he spoke, a wave of pain seemed to pass through his injuries; the face he made, she’d seen the same expression on Gyda, her apprentice, many times when he’d misjudged in the forges and burned himself. The face of fire hot pain. His painkillers must have been wearing off, and yet again Idunn was reminded of the fragility of Midgardians.

She didn’t have the heart to explain to him the inevitable, and simply shook her head sadly. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I will take that as a complement.”

“How are you still upright?” She demanded, half laughing through an emotion choked throat. “Lay down and rest.”

“Is this not resting?” He asked, still lounging, propped on his elbows. How did he manage to tease her so at a time like this?

“You’re ridiculous.” Her only defense? Naming every way he managed to excite her down to the bone marrow.

“The poison was, Princess Shuri believes, formulated for you— someone smaller than me, and slow enough acting to not kill instantly beside the fact, simply incapacitate until the attacker could finish you off.” Anger bled through his ever-calm voice, and she suddenly wondered why she needed to be the one comforted here; she hadn’t been maimed.

“Then that worm miscalculated on two fronts,” Idunn scoffed. “I doubt his blade would have even penetrated my skin, and had it, found something denser than your delicate human muscular system.”

“Interesting.” M’Baku murmured. “I am delicate, eh?”

His hands had not left hers yet, thumbs tracing slow circles over the soft skin, the veins that ran parallel to one another. Both sets of fingers were darkly colored, rough, calloused, made to build, to fight.

They felt right, touching her.

She drew closer, captivated, angling toward luscious lips, before recalling where she was. How disrespectful, to push her lips on his as he lay dying slowly, guards watching from the door, in the midst of the place she had fled without explanation less than twenty-four hours before. How arrogant. Idunn made a mental note to speak to the Princess as soon as she could and apologize.

“You’re miles away, _ifemi_. What are you thinking?” One of those hands came up to touch her cheek. She shivered.

Would it be so bad to let go of those inhibitions? Kari always did say, “what’s the point of doing what you’re told? Where’s the fun in that?” He had been the wildcard. She had been the control freak.

Before she could contemplate that further, the Princess entered the room, hailed by salutes from the Dora at the door. Idunn bowed her head. Speak of the Midgardian, and they shall appear.

“Idunn.” She sounded warm, and Idunn raised her eyes to meet the gaze of the young genius. “How are you feeling?”

“Apologetic.” Idunn muttered, her ears warming. “I am sorry for my behavior yesterday, I—”

“Your uncle explained.” Shuri waved her off. “I must apologize as well, for showing you those. I had no idea.”

M’Baku looked between the two, uncertain, but unwilling to ask for clarification.

The Princess held up a glass vial, with a small amount of silvery blue liquid swirling about inside. “This should work.” She told them, turning her attention to the prone man on the table.

“Should?”

“It will work.” She corrected herself, though the smallest flicker of doubt colored her rich accent, and handed the container to M’Baku. “Drink up.”

Idunn watched at it disappeared down his throat in a single gulp, the expression crossing his face informing them it could not have tasted very good. “It’s like blood.”

“That’s the metal; I counteracted the poison with a small mixture of other materials and nanites. Never thought I would be dabbling in alchemy, yet here we are, Great Gorilla.” Princess Shuri teased. “How do you feel?”

“I— ah.” He took a deep breath, then sat up fully, swinging long legs around to the floor, and stood. “That was fast.” He peeled away layers of gauze to reveal rapidly healing wounds, the flesh knitting itself back together, the yellow tinge of infection fading before their eyes. Within the minute, the injuries were gone with little more than a thin line of shiny flesh in its place. Idunn stared in surprise.

Princess Shuri grinned, clearly pleased. “Just call me Nicholas Flamel.”

They stared at her blankly.

“You know… the guy who— you know what? Never mind. I am glad you are feeling better, Great Gorilla. My brother needs to see both of you in the throne room.”

“I am just up out of bed and being sent on errands? This brother of yours needs to learn to respect the might of the Jabar—” M’Baku was cut off by Idunn stepping before him and nodding at the young woman.

“Lead the way, Princess.” She said, shooting a look behind her to let him know they would talk more later.


	6. Six

The throne room was smaller than she’d expected for such a grand kingdom. The throne itself was simple, yet intricate, and Idunn found herself staring at it, and not the King who sat upon it. The Elders of their tribes surrounded in a U shaped semi-circle of chairs, and her uncle had his own seat, though his looked temporary and did not match the décor of the rest of the room. Idunn thought that was considerate.

The King stood as their oddly assembled party entered; a technological genius of a Princess, a lost warrior without a war, a newly healed tribe leader, and the former Valkyrie they’d picked up along the way, flirting with a Dora guard at the door. “Lord M’Baku. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thanks to the help of your know-it-all sister.” Half of M’Baku’s mouth quirked up, though he looked like he hated to admit it.

“And how are you feeling, Captain Hjördísdottir?” Astonishingly, King T’Challa turned his attention to the clearly out of place Asgardian.

She fidgeted under his attention, already polarized by the simple black trousers and shirt she wore; everyone else was dressed in finery or armor. She felt naked and bare without hers. The reminder of her old title of Captain had thrown her off kilter. She’d thought that title fell with the rest of her home.

Idunn was more astonished that he knew her surname; but then, Heimdall must have informed him and the rest of the council while they sat discussing her crimes. Her fate.

This was her trial.

It sent a shiver down her spine to know that these people likely held her immediate future in her hands— at least, if she wanted any chance of staying with what was left of the people she cared about.

“I— f-fine, King T’Challa, thank you.” She lowered her eyes. Idunn was not used to having to submit her own strong will, to bend to the wishes of others, especially Midgardians. She supposed she should if she wanted to stay.

He nodded, with no show of how he could be feeling on his face. “Tell us what happened.” He commanded, sitting again.

Idunn swallowed hard, her eyes darting over to meet her uncle’s. He gave a short nod.

She took a deep breath and recounted the story from the beginning, in more detail than she’d given the General, who was not currently present. The room was completely silent as she spoke; you could hear the smallest of sparks pop in the quiet that ensued. The eyes trained to her every move made her nervous.

The second she’d finished, the silence shattered. The Elders murmured amongst themselves until the King held up a hand. “Silence.” There was a beat of nothingness. “Lord M’Baku, was anything she said untrue?”

“No.” M’Baku was not known for his brevity, but he saw no reason to continue this conversation, the charade to pin this on Idunn when she’d done nothing wrong, simply to quell the bloodthirsty rumors that swirled around Wakanda.

“Very well. If there are no other comments—”

“I have a question.” The Queen Mother, sitting silent, still, and sneering in her seat, spoke at last. “Why did Lord M’Baku take you to the mountainside to begin with?”

Idunn felt herself flush beneath dark skin. “I do not know, Queen Mother; we were attacked before he could explain.”

The Queen Mother’s gaze fell on the mountainous man. He simply shrugged, unbothered. “I wished to show her the fireflies. They do not come so far up the mountain to Jabari, where it is too cold.”

Idunn let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Their unclear relationship did not need to be broadcasted to these strangers.

A small noise of confusion came from behind them, and they turned to see the Princess fiddling with the beads at her wrist. “Brother.” The Princess looked up, eyes wide. “Sargent Barnes wishes to join us.”

Sargent Barnes? Idunn wracked her brain for a face to put to the name, but nothing appeared until he did.

The man with the metal arm.

The silver glinting through the trees.

“You.” Idunn blinked. 

His accent was unlike the others, the soft, new American lilt that contrasted so sharply with the Wakandans around him. “Captain Hjördísdottir.” He nodded to her before acknowledging the royalty in the throne room. She wasn’t sure if he was crazy, disrespectful and disregarding of the government of the country he currently resided in, or if he was simply ignorant. Maybe he just felt sorry for her. Or perhaps she was overthinking again.

 “Sargent Barnes, could you please tell us why you’ve decided to join this formal audience?” The King asked, raising an eyebrow at the pale man sticking out like a sword that had not been put away.

“I was there. I saw what happened, all of it. And I can give my own account.” Sergeant Barnes replied in a steady, unwavering voice, staring the King directly in the eye.

“You were there?” Idunn demanded. “That was what I saw through the trees, was it not? Your arm? The silver?”

“Yes.” His tone remained infuriatingly calm.

“You distracted me! You’re the reason W’Kabi took us by surprise.” Idunn huffed, her palms itching for _Halvor_ once more. She stopped the thought in its tracks and shook her head. What was wrong with her? She could not simply run him through, much less before the monarch of the country she took refuge in. More so, he was trying to help; if he had truly seen everything, they had another person to back up her version of events and what could not be verified by M’Baku. The most important thing here was his word. She had to get her temper under control; it flared up and out with the slightest provacation. Idunn forced herself to breathe deeply and listen, the heat in her chest ebbing bit by bit.

And his word, he gave truthfully. “After Lord M’Baku fell, W’Kabi attempted to finish him off so that he could move on to the fight with Captain Hjördísdottir. She finished him off before he could, and I’m glad she did. How cowardly and dishonorable to kill an already beaten and poisoned foe.” He said the last of this in another tongue that Idunn and Heimdall understood immediately. Russian.

King T’Challa nodded as well. “I see. Is there anything else?”

“If my opinion is worth anything here—” and here an elder dressed in green, plates on his lips, scoffed in derision at Barnes’ words. Idunn raised an eyebrow. _Was_ his opinion not worth anything? She had no idea of the Sargent’s place, or even why he’d been near them on the mountainside in the first place. “If it is, then I believe that Captain Hjördísdottir did nothing wrong. I don’t believe she should be punished, and if she must, please do not take it out on the rest of her people for her own mistake.”

“Thank you for your input, Sergeant Barnes.” Their King spoke. The council looked unhappy. The guards looked angry. The Princess looked worried. And M’Baku… no, she couldn’t even turn to see his face now. Couldn’t bring herself to gaze upon the hope that would crumple the second the King issued his decree for her to leave his country.

“My decision is final. While I regret that it was not Wakanda that brought W’Kabi to justice, we cannot deny the fact that it has happened. I have determined that Idunn was acting only in self-defense. The Asgardians will stay until they have found a permanent home.”

A ripple of shock went through the room. “ _Kumkani wam_ , you cannot be serious!” Exclaimed an elder draped in red and gold, her hair coated in vibrant clay. “Throw this alien scum and the rest of her friends out of Wakanda!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Idunn saw her uncle close his eyes briefly in annoyance, then reopen them. He looked as if he were going to speak up, but the Queen Mother got there before he did. “My son has stated that his decision is final.”

“The Mining tribe will host them no longer.” She snapped. “They may be welcome in Wakanda, but they are no longer welcome with us.”

“Same for the River tribe.” Spat the elder with the lip plate.

“They are welcome in the Border tribe.” Their blanket draped elder declared. “W’Kabi’s traitorous behavior has stained us with shame. We are glad that he has been brought to justice, no matter who has done it.”

“I cannot say that the Merchant tribe has no quarrel with the Asgardians.” Their elder spoke. “We believe they may be safer elsewhere.”

Idunn stiffened at the threat of violence against her people, hands instinctively dropping to a familiar, but empty, spot at her waist.

To his credit, M’Baku simply shrugged and grinned at the King. “Do I truly need to state my stance?” He looked around the room, locking eyes with each of the Elders who had declared themselves and their tribes separate. “Any of the refugees you cast out are welcome with the Jabari in Gorilla City. I’m sure they will enjoy themselves.”

Idunn glanced up at him, a lump rising in her throat. She owed this mountainous man more than she could ever repay him.

“Then it is settled. I will not force any tribe to house Asgardian refugees.” King T’Challa rose and walked swiftly toward M’Baku with all the grace of his Panther title. They gripped at each other’s forearms and seemed to exchange nonverbal words with a long look.

“Thank you, my brother.” The King told him. Idunn got the feeling she was missing a lot. What hadn’t he told her about his relationship with these royals?

Probably about as much as she hadn’t told him about their lifespans, or the other things she was ashamed of.

♤♤♤

Idunn didn’t feel the full rage of Wakanda until she stepped outside their palace, and now she understood why she’d been shut in. In complete contrast to the curious gawking, whispers, and avoid eye contract of the past few days, walking through the streets now garnered stares filled with anger and disgust, furious hisses whispered among citizens, even a few people bold enough to shout their unhappiness with these Asgardians in particular in disgusting slurs. They stopped only short of throwing rotten fruit, and that might have been more from their guard around them than anything else.

The Dora guards had abandoned them as they left the palace. Now Jabari flanked the small group, causing them to stick out even more through the crowd, surrounded by wood and fur and grass skirts. Idunn felt small, not the easiest feat for the muscular, tall woman. She walked between M’Baku on her left, Heimdall to her right, and Brunnhilde on her heels. The Princess had bid her farewell and promises of another tour before retiring to her lab once more. The Dora had returned Halvor, however reluctantly, and Heimdall’s Bifrost sword that she didn’t even know they’d taken. She was furious when she found out but contained it well. Though she hadn’t made it, that sword remained one of her favorite pieces of metalwork, and the forger who’d created it had her utmost respect.

At least she didn’t need to hike the mountain this time. Their vehicle wasn’t as technologically advanced as the rest of the Wakandans (“The Jabari are a traditional bunch,” she recalled M’Baku telling her. “We don’t need the new technology.”) but it beat walking.

Though it wasn’t like anyone had forced her to walk the first time.

The citizens were what worried her. While the King had assured her that short of a civil war, the Asgardians would say until further notice, Idunn worried. She fretted, though she hated to admit it. Causing a civil war within the country she took shelter in would be… bad, to say the least.

The ride up the mountain was silent and tense. No one spoke, each in their own world of worries.

Hilde had elected to stay with the Border tribe. “The mountains are too… crowded, right now.” She’d said, a bit shiftily, and refused to elaborate further. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

“That’s… ominous.” Heimdall had commented. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“Can’t be around too many Asgardians.” Was all she’d say.

“Good luck, then, Valkyrie.” He’d told her, and a smaller part of Idunn’s mind realized that she was likely the only living person to know Brunnhilde by her given name.

It made her feel odd. Important, but odd; like one of the strange Midgardian bumblebees M’Baku had shown her on their first walk up the mountainside, sweet and docile, unlike the vicious _humle_ of Asgard who would sooner sting you than look at you. They toddled around clumsily in the vibrant wildflowers, and he’d urged her to touch one.

_“Just put your finger out and let him climb on,” M’Baku had insisted, guiding her hand toward the violently violet petals, where a small fuzzy creature bumped around._

_She’d drawn back, two thrills of different fears running down her spine; his touch, the sting. “Aren’t they… angry?”_

_“They’re as gentle as you or I.”_

_Idunn considered that. As gentle as the tall, solidly build man before her, leaning on his wooden staff, a colossal weapon, with all the grace and ease of a gorilla himself? Or as gentle as the war hardened captain, muscles just as solid beneath hand crafted armor?_

_Yet again, foolish, unearned trust forged her response. “Fine,” she declared, sticking her hand back out, quick and rash before instinct could kick in once more._

_He held her wrist. “Easy,” he warned, his touch as gentle as he promised the pollen coated insect was. The bumblebee, seemingly done with his job, clamored on. She stared in fascination._

_“They make the best honey you’ve ever tasted.” He promised. He had not yet let go of her hand. “And they’re quite essential for any thriving garden.”_

_“You garden?” Her finger twitched, almost experimentally. The bee hardly moved._

_“It relaxes me.” The tone of his voice held no room for further comment, so she dropped it. Apparently, the bumblebee was done hearing it too, and slowly unfolded delicate wings to take off. Idunn’s eyes tracked it as far as the next flower, but the air was growing heavy with them in the summer heat. She couldn’t differentiate her bee from the rest within the minute._

_“Strange little things.” Idunn commented._

_“And important.” M’Baku’s voice held no offence taken on her stance to the creatures, though._

_“They can be both,” she suggested, heading back for the path. She glanced over her shoulder. “You seem to be.”_

“We’ve arrived.” His voice now startled her out of the memory. Idunn swallowed hard and looked up, blinking.

“Sorry,” She apologized, climbing from her seat. He took her hand again as they exited, natural as breathing. Idunn noticed her uncle’s eyes on them, but he made no comment as they headed to the throne room.

Time seemed to pass very quickly after that. She remembered M’Baku’s decree to his people. She remembered the ripples of emotion that fluttered across each face. She remembered that she’d dropped his hand and abashedly stepped aside. She remembered thinking that, though he treated her like one, she was not his Queen.

But she remembered this all in flashes and pieces. The next thing she knew, she was nestled between the sheets of the guest bed she’d stayed in before, sunlight bright on her night dark skin. Idunn groaned, rolling over, and pulled blankets over her head. Maybe she wouldn’t have to get up. Maybe everyone would just conveniently forget that she was there, and no one would come to wake her for food.

She wasn’t sure she could share another meal with him, look him in the eye, and go on with both of them knowing how the other felt.

She wasn’t sure she could face him at all.

She hated this. Being trapped, living at someone else’s whim, not being in charge of how she could live her own life, even temporarily, left her feeling small. Stupid. Dependent.

And if there was anything Idunn was not, it was used to depending on another person for a single thing.

She’d worked years of her life away in those forges, and that was how she had liked to live. Playing with fire, all on her own. Hammering away, infusing pieces of herself into every sword, spear, shield, and spiked gauntlet. After she specialized into smith work, she’d found her purpose, but could rarely be found unless you knew where to look. Kari always had; it was something akin to instinctual when he’d pop in on his first try every time, no matter where she was in the forge: down by the magma tunnels, on her bench, even taking lunch out to her spots along the mountainside. More often than not, he’d bring food along for her anyway. She forgot to eat. He never stopped baking, experimenting, trying new things and eagerly testing them out on her and her variable taste buds.

His favorite phrase had been “You will never guess where in the Nine Realms I found this recipe!”

It was usually Midgard. It became her default answer after a decade.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like food. But it was so much less interesting than dunking superheated metal into oil and absorbing the flame into the uru, wrapping handles in fine strips of leather, or grinding the edge of a blade razor sharp. She already knew she could hold her own in the kitchen. It held no challenge.

It hit her like a mace over the head.

She sat up sharply and glanced at the time displayed by her bedside. Still early enough that she could do this.

She could cook for him.

♤♤♤

That morning, M’Baku woke to the scent of food cooking for the first time in years. That had not happened since his mother passed away. He sat up, pushing aside white fur blankets. “Idunn?” He called.

“In the kitchen!” came her wind chime reply.

So it _was_ her.

Interesting.

M’Baku wasn’t sure exactly what to think of Idunn, at least, not without fear of the ridiculous swirl of emotions that clouded his mind whenever he _did_ think of her; her warm golden brown eyes and the fire that burned within them whenever she spoke. How her dreadlocks fell over her eyes and she’d brush them back in annoyance. How her dark skin glowed even early in the morning, waking her up for the Princess’s ridiculous tour requests.

It glowed now, too, when she turned to greet him as he walked in. The smell was something familiar. How had she known his favorite breakfast as a child? The same thing his Mama used to make on special mornings. He leaned against the doorway, trying not to let himself seem as effected as he really was.

Idunn was sliding the potatoes onto plates as he entered the room. “Good morning,” she told him, only a slight quiver in the smile she gave him. Nervous. “Did you sleep well?”

“You cooked for us?” He replied with another question.

Her ears warmed, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his gaze at that. “You’ve shown me a lot of hospitality. It would be bad manners not to reciprocate.” Now the quiver made its way into her throat. “I hope I am not overstepping my bounds. I found the recipe in a book above the cabinet.”

“I haven’t had this in a long time.” He commented, picking up the plates and leading them to the table to sit. M’Baku set the plates down and pulled out Idunn’s chair. She wondered silently if it was out of chivalry or guilt. “It smells delicious.” He added, picking up a fork. “It was the best thing my mother used to make for me.”

“Then I apologize if I did not do it justice.” Idunn murmured, the tips of her ears now aflame. If she disrespected the memory of his mother, this would make this all so much more awkward.

They dug in. It _was_ delicious.

“Are we going to talk about this or not?” Idunn asked. “It seems a bit ridiculous to pretend nothing happened.”

“What happened, then, Idunn?” His gaze was steady and too focused on her.

She bit back shame. “I killed someone.”

“You saved my life.” He shoveled a bite of food into his mouth, his tone so casual, you could think he was talking about the weather.

“I—”

“What more is there to discuss, Idunn?” He swallowed hard before speaking. “Thank you.”

She felt nothing for W’Kabi. She knew nothing of him more than his crimes against this country, and his murderous xenophobia. But she was only sorry for the trouble it had all caused. Not for the life, for the soul she had saved that called so intimately to her own.

Tears filled her eyes and threatened to brim over. Not for the first time, the reality of just how close she had been to losing him hit her. She had been breaths away from his flame extinguishing.

He saw the expression on her face become suddenly vulnerable, and he dropped his fork and moved out of his seat toward her. “Idunn, no,” he whispered, taking her hand and kneeling on the wooden floor beside her. “I’m being serious. Thank you for saving my life.” His words rang with sincerity.

She shivered under his stare, and half shrugged, laughing a bit to try and shake the tears away. “No problem.”

He reached up to tuck an errant, falling, gold wrapped dreadlock behind her ear. On instinct, almost unconsciously, her hand drifted down to cup at his cheek. “How are you feeling? Honestly.”

“My wounds have healed.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Idunn bit her lip. “Did you mean…? When we were in the lab.”

“What?”

“Did you mean it?”

“Every word.”

And suddenly his mouth found hers, his full lips every inch as luscious as she’d dreamt, but, _oh,_ this was ten thousand times more alive than a vision in her head. He tasted of the spices she’d painstakingly measured to the milligram, following handwritten, yellowing instructions. He was gentle, letting her set the pace, but his warm hand crept around the back of her neck and pulled her closer.

Idunn melted into him, seeing stars and galaxies swirling as she closed her eyes. It lasted for the longest moment, a single sustained note of a symphony hanging in the air, before she pulled back.

“Oh…” It was the softest exhale from her lips. The simultaneous smiles that spread across their faces caused them to chuckle at the same time.

♤♤♤

“I want to take you out somewhere.” M’Baku told her, later, when she was curled under his arm on the couch, her head on his chest, being pulled in closer with his arms around her waist. Later, after innumerous kisses, soft caresses, exploring mouths and faces and necks, after hickies and love bites, after fear and vulnerability and whispered declarations of adoration.

“Somewhere?” Her voice was a murmur, a vibration across the onyx skin of his neck. “Some… where?”

“Somewhere out in my tribe. Somewhere you haven’t seen yet.” His thumb stroked soft circles in the skin of her back, her shirt having been shed what felt like hours ago. The skin to skin contact was immeasurably warming to them both.

“You really want to be seen out with me?” She sounded sleepy. Or maybe just tired.

“I want to shout your name from these mountains.” He said simply. “But I understand if you’re not quite ready for that level of exuberance.”

Idunn’s chuckle at that was even more warming than the heat of her body curled against his own, spreading through his chest like hot coals. “No, not quite.” She agreed, tucking a leg over his. _Her legs were exquisite_ , he mused silently.

“But food? We could get something out.” He couldn’t keep the note of hope out of his tone. “And… I would like to show you my nursery.”

“You’re a parent, Great Gorilla?” She teased, the light-hearted lilt to her words combined with her adoption of that title causing his mortal heart to skip a beat. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“To quite a few plants, yes. It’s a greenhouse.” He clarified.

She sighed. “Do we have to? I’m so much more comfortable here.”

He bit his lip, unwilling to leave this shining bubble of a moment yet either. “I’d like to at some point today.” He breathed deep, the scent of her so close causing his head to spin.

“I don’t wanna move.” She whimpered, fingers curling into his soft skin, hard muscles. Having him this close felt like something had clicked, something that had been missing for a very long time. It wasn’t a feeling she could well quantify, or even truly qualify accurately in words. But if the word had to exist, she though he’d said it well already.

_Soulmate._

“Idunn.”

“Mmm?”

“ _Ifemi,_ you fell asleep.”

Part of her brain that wasn’t quite aware from waking up, the Allspeak still stirring, recognized that he’d called her _his love_. But the larger part of her recognized the panic in it, and she sat up, but the couch was gone. M’Baku was too.

The stone beneath her was hard and faintly damp, flickers of flames in metal and wire baskets flickered around the enormous cavern. Babies wailed, the sound almost muffled, and she pushed herself to her feet, swaying on the spot, dizzy.

She was back on Asgard.

How?

Asgard had been destroyed.

What?

“She will be here soon.” Heimdall’s voice echoed, seeming to come from every direction at once. “We need to evacuate.”

The panic. The surging of refugees in their own homeland scurrying like rats to grab hastily at their few meager possessions, the stampeding of those who didn’t know better. Her heart beat a wild dance in her chest, her feet frozen to the spot.

“Idunn!” His voice startled her back into the wooden floor she’d collapsed onto, back in M’Baku’s living room, as he knelt over her, the expression on his face letting her know she’d been here all along.

“Sorry,” she whispered, eyes cast down as he helped her back up and sat her on the couch.

“Don’t apologize, just… tell me what’s going on. Are you okay? You were mumbling in your sleep about Asgard and Kari and…” he took a deep breath, sensing that his rambling wasn’t helping. “Are you alright?” He repeated, hovering, unsure.

Idunn’s head swam. She had just been there. And it wasn’t a dream, but it must have started with one.

Her head throbbed, a migraine behind her left eye building in pressure and intensity with every passing second. Her heart still beat an unsteady and awkward rhythm beneath her ribs, and she could almost feel the vise of everything she’d lost wrapped around it. It was amazing, the amount of pain that didn’t show on her face as she forced her lips into a smile. “I guess I just sleepwalk sometimes. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I’m sorry.”

“Idunn.” The sternness in his voice dropped the manic smile from her face. “You looked so… lost.”

She swallowed hard. His stare left no room to squirm. “It was just a nightmare.” She insisted. “It just seemed so real, and I was back on Asgard, and I…”

M’Baku wrapped her in a hug as she trailed off, tight and reassuring. “You’re okay,” he whispered, and for a moment, she simply melted into his touch.

Then he asked “Are you hungry? We could go out and eat now,” and her shoulders tensed automatically. He noticed. “Idunn?”

“I’m just really not ready to be stared at like a pariah, M’Baku.” She hummed, low, against his skin. “Or for you to be looked at the same because you’re seen with me. It’s not a great feeling. I’d rather not have either of us experience it when I could very well just cook for you again and we could spend some time doing… nothing.”

“I understand. But you cannot stay cooped up here forever.” His voice was low and had a hard edge to it that she couldn’t understand.

She pulled herself from his embrace and threw her hand up in the air. “I don’t plan to! But it has been an absolutely mindfuck of the past few days, and I would like just a bit of time where I’m not worried for my family’s survival, or that of what remains of my people, or having a mental breakdown over some ridiculous swords, or where we might find a new place to live since our home was destroyed, or anything else like that, okay?! Can I just have _one day_ of peace? Please?” Idunn took several deep breaths after her rambling ceased, chest heaving in the wake of the pressure that had been released from it. It was like her torso had been wrapped in metal bands and they were being cut and falling away.

“Breakdown over swords? What are you talking about, Idunn?”

Shit.

In an instant, the bands were back. “I just meant—”

“What happened in the Princess’s lab?” He sounded calm. Too calm.

Her hackles raised. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Idunn—”

“Leave me alone!” She burst out, scrambling from the couch and fleeing to her room, shutting and locking the door behind her. M’Baku started for her door, then stopped himself. He’d pushed too far. Now guilt settled heavily on his shoulders, increasing in weight when he heard the muffled sobs and sound of the shower cutting on from behind the door.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, knowing she wouldn’t hear.

She did, only because through the thick wooden walls and the spray of the water from the shower, her hearing was that of an Asgardian, and more than that, her soul attuned to his.

But though she forgave him, Idunn did not come back out.

♤♤♤

At least, she did not emerge until later, when the sun had set below the mountains and was disappearing with brilliant colored plumage under the horizon when you looked down on it from Gorilla City.

He was in his own bedroom when she knocked, and his voice echoed when he asked her to enter. The knob turned easily, and Idunn took in the warm, rich decorations for the first time as she gazed around. There were white furs topping the bed, and everything else she looked upon was like a forest in autumn; draped in rich reds, golds, and browns. A few more of his paintings hung on the walls, sceneries of marketplaces and meadows and fireflies. That last one made her breath catch in her throat, and she looked over to where M’Baku lounged in bed, his back against a broad and ornately carved headboard, a book on his lap, still half open.

“M’Baku, I—”

“If you are here to apologize, do not bother, Idunn.” Her heart sank at his words, until he continued. “I should be the one apologizing. I should not have pushed you so far when it was clear what you wanted and needed. I am sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Though she’d heard his earlier apology in the hall, the sincerity that rang true in his words struck her like an open palmed slap. “I forgive you.” She answered, still hovering in the doorway, unsure if she should step in.

“Come in.” He insisted, a smile lighting his face as he patted the mattress beside him. “You are more than welcome in here.”

She crept forward, a gazelle on legs with the muscles of a cheetah, and eased herself onto the bed next to him, pressing fists into the soft blankets and half crawling until she knelt and faced him eye to eye. “I like your room.”

“Thank you.”

The silence that followed was not unpleasant. It was long, though, and Idunn found herself searching more for answers in his dark and beautiful eyes than she did simply enjoying them. He caught an errant lock of her hair and tucked it into the twisted updo that held the rest back. She smiled, and M’Baku realized this was the most casually he’d seen her dressed since her first night with him; in flannel, she was truly a sight to behold, and he could see why the old Norse had thought them gods. She looked more like a goddess now, though, than she had wielding a flaming sword in full armor.   ~~~~

Perhaps it was the vulnerability on her face.

Either way, he was struck nearly dumb in her presence. It was an odd feeling. M’Baku was used to being a commanding presence, but he felt like a moon to her burning sun. She was radiant, and warm, and he drew to her like a moth to a candle in the night.

Before he realized what was happening, they were kissing again, and his mind drew blank on all other thoughts. Her lips were petal soft, and he breathed in her rose sweet scent as he drew her closer. Idunn climbed clumsily into his lap, her kisses trailing almost absentmindedly over the shell of his ear, the side of his neck. It was all he could do to hold her steady, and she seemed to relax, if only marginally, in his arms.

It was a slow and quiet little paradise between the two, each unhurried kiss melting into the next. M’Baku wanted to explore her, taste more of her, but his lips found their way back to hers time and time again, inescapable in their honeyed sweetness.

They eventually found themselves lying on their sides, noses nearly close enough to touch, two pairs of helpless eyes with everything laid between them locked on one another.

Their whispers were barely audible over the winds picking up outside, rattling at the windows, the very walls shivering but strong and built for this assault.

“I just…”

“Mmm?”

“There’s been a lot happening.”

“I understand.”

“I didn’t mean to blow up on you like that.”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not.”

“I pushed you too hard.”

“I—”

“Idunn, it’s _okay_. Stop… stop apologizing.”

“It feels like everything lately is my fault.”

“Ah, so you caused your home to fall?”

“You know that’s not true.”

“And us being attacked, you planned that?”

“M’Baku—”

“Then everything that you have gone through as of late is not your fault, Idunn.”

“What’s left of my people was nearly ejected from the only refuge we know because I couldn’t control myself enough to incapacitate an attacker rather than kill him.”

“No one blames you for that—”

“I blame _myself_ , M’Baku. I would have never seen you again.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen. It did not happen regardless, so stop worrying about it..”

“This is ridiculous, you realize…?”

“What is?”

“ _This._ We’ve known each other less than… a week. A handful of days.”

“And that Hanuman has shown me my soulmate so soon is a blessing. Why can’t you see it that way?”

“Because if I let myself feel this for you, I won’t survive losing you.”

“You won’t lose me.”

“I will. Eventually.”

“How do you know that?”

“…I lose everyone.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to lose me.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I can’t.” She whispered brokenly.

“Why not?” A note of frustration crept into his words.

Her throat closed up even as she tried to speak, and she simply shook her head instead, tears brimming in her eyes. M’Baku sighed, and she closed her eyes briefly, expecting biting words, only to feel his lips brush over her forehead.

“Keep your secrets if you’d like, _ifemi_. It won’t change the way I feel about you.” He murmured.


End file.
